When One Door Opens xPrequel xxx PART ONE
by StephalewANDhugh
Summary: Cam kises bus and believes she's in a relationship with House. House just realizes feelings 4 her but doesn't act on them.We meet Debra, his cousin, who is VITAL to the plot. CONTINUES in ANOTHER DOOR CLOSES.......HouseCam, WilOC
1. Chapter 1

**WHEN ONE DOOR OPENS**

**CHAPTER ONE**

The door to the restaurant pushed open as Dr Gregory House took a step inside. There were echoes of laughter, muffled voices and silverware clinging and clanging against plates of food of the patrons. He held his breath slowly with each step he took closer to the table where Cameron, Foreman and Chase were sitting from left to right.

_What do I say? What the hell do I talk to them about?_

He noticed the waitress had just walked away from the table which left a clear view for the triplets to see the entrance door, but they hadn't spotted him yet. He heard Cameron say, "If I were smart I would have dried my hair before we left. I should have known he'd pick up on the fact that we were together when he call…" She stopped talking when she finally noticed House standing just feet from their table.

"I _did_ suggest it to you but you wouldn't listen…OW! Why did you kick me?" Chase asked, rubbing his left shin with his right foot to alleviate the pain caused by Cameron's high heel shoe that kicked him under the table.

"House, what are you doing here?" Cameron asked as she leaned back in the booth's seat. Foreman placed his fork onto his plate after he took a bite and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Chase only stared at House in silence and waited for his answer.

"I'm here to get my taxes done. I hate procrastinating. Move it or lose it, Chase," House said as he moved closer to the booth as Chase stood up and waited for House to sit down. House shook his head before he said, "I meant to just scoot over. Did you get all excited when you gave me that loving hug?" House sat down as soon as Chase returned to the booth who then scooted closer to Foreman, which left House facing Cameron directly and the two other men in the middle.

"Again, what are you doing here? Did you find out you now have Parkinson's and want to be included in the medical trial for pain medication and need us to do some tests?" Cameron asked sarcastically as she took the last swig of her beer.

She wasn't upset he was there but was still full of anger and disappointment in him over what he had done to them the night before. She had no intention of going to Penn State, but just wanted to know what his reaction would be if she did leave. She'd expected him to beg her to stay and fake needing a hug and he would kiss her so that she would stay, having her think she'd finally have House like she'd said she did. She didn't want to have to initiate it to get the blood sample. But she worked with and knew House well enough that she had alternative plans to keep one step ahead of her boss.

She never told Chase her plan of kissing him or that they actually had; she'd lied about how she'd get the sample. Even though she and Chase were just 'having microwave pizza' she had come to care about Chase a bit more than she ever thought she would. They had been taking turns staying at each other's apartments most nights the past few weeks and trying very hard not to give away their secret to House. But of course, he picked right up on it the morning he called them all in to deal with Patrick.

"Where's that waitress?" House only replied as he looked around the room for the same woman that was there a second before. When he finally spotted her he screamed across several tables that he wanted a Scotch, no ice. She nodded her head as if perturbed and continued servicing the table.

House drew his attention back to his charges, intertwined his fingers and leaned forward, as if the conversation they were having before he showed up would continue as if he weren't even there.

"Don't worry. I already knew you two have been together…I mean Cameron and Chase, not Chase and Foreman. Oh, hell," House stuck his finger up in the air without even looking for the waitress and shouted, "Make that two Scotches!" He turned his attention back to those at the table. "I've got to drink that mental image out of my head."

"How?" Cameron asked dumfounded.

"I've been peaking into your apartment," House answered as he looked at Cameron.

"House, I'm on the third floor," Cameron said as she suddenly lost her appetite and pushed her plate away.

House looked at Chase as he said, "And I'm on the second floor. I doubt you could climb the brick wall to the balcony."

"Oh, I can, and I did with my Spidey climbing powers. But Foreman had to help me," House said as Foreman smirked and shook his head.

"I still don't like you, House," Foreman said. "Doubt I ever will."

"Oh, that just hurts my feelings, Foreman. What'll I do? Where'll I go?" House mocked, carrying on in a southern accent as if he were Scarlet O'Hara.

"Well, I'm done eating and I've suddenly grown quite tired. Think I'm going back to Tara for a nap," Cameron returned the mocking, also speaking in a Scarlet O'Hara voice.

"Didn't the Yankees burn it down? There's nothing left of Tara…OW! Stop kicking me under the table, Alli…Cameron!" Chase screamed, drawing attention from nearby diners.

House smiled as he noticed the waitress walk toward the table with a drink in her hand. As she stopped and placed it on the napkin in front of House Cameron asked her for the check.

"But I'm not done eating, Cameron. What's the rush?" Foreman asked as the waitress walked away and House downed half the liquid in the glass.

"You can stay, but Chase and I are leaving," she told Foreman.

"Uh, I'm not done, either," Chase interjected. "OW! Damnit, cut it _OUT_!" Chase pleaded as his shin sustained another kick from Cameron's heeled foot.

"Oh, but you like pain, don't you, Chase? Or that's the rumor in Princeton Enquirer I read a while ago," House teased as he tried to control his laughter.

Cameron placed her napkin on the half-empty plate and grabbed her purse, getting out bills that would cover a portion of the bill. "This should cover it, for the both of us," she said as she placed the money on the table, zipped her purse and scooted over to stand.

"Oh, you're not paying, Chase? You're a cheap date. When I got my kiss from Cameron I didn't have to pay anything," House said as he looked at Cameron waiting for a reaction.

But it was Chase that reacted at his comment. His face was contorted in a look of confusion as he glanced at Cameron, who had stood and had her back against the table as she pulled on her jacket. Her face carried a smirk, then a look of _Oh no, he DIDN'T! _

Her thoughts raced. What was she going to say? What was she going to do? Seems she had turned into Scarlet O'Hara after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Cameron, what is he talking about?" Chase asked angrily from his squished position at the table between his coworker and boss, who were then giving him a once over look.

"Oh, you know House, Chase," she said as she buttoned the top button, wrapped the scarf around her neck, took a deep breath, straightened her face and turned around. "He's just saying that to rile us up. Stay if you want. You know where the key is."

Foreman shifted position uncomfortably while his body spoke volumes: _I don't want to be here. I want to be somewhere else._ But no one moved to let him out and all he could do was sit there and hold his breath.

"You kissed him?" Chase asked, baffled. "You _kissed_ him?!"

"It's no big deal. I told you I had to be clever in getting his blood sample," she answered.

"Yeah, you did, but you never mentioned kissing him," Chase answered.

House was sitting back smuggly, his arms across his chest and eyed both Cameron and Chase as they spoke to one another.

"Chase, this isn't the place to have this conversation. Let's talk at my place."

"No. I'm not in the mood," he answered.

"Oh, I'll go home with you, Cameron!" House chimed in. All three at the table gave him a look of disgust and annoyance. "Look, it was no big deal. I know why she did it and I have to give her props for trying it. She was only looking out for me, as you all were," House said, almost seriously, until he broke out in laughter.

Cameron shot him a look. "That was when we thought you were dying."

"But you were happy when you learned I wasn't, right?"

"I'm not now!" Cameron shot as she turned on her heels and headed for the door. The three men remained seated and quiet.

House groaned and said, "Oh, for God's sake! Go after her, Chase!"

"Man, this isn't happening. She kissed you? _You? _Our boss??"

"Shut up and go!" Foreman barked.

Chase reluctantly scooted out of the booth and ran out the door. "Allison! Cameron! Stop!" he shouted as he ran to catch up with her. He could see she was only a few doors down from him and stopped running but walked very quickly. He knew he'd be able to catch up with her.

He kept repeating her name as he quickened his pace and had to almost run again to keep from widening the gap between them. "Allison, please. We need to talk!" he shouted after her.

"No! You're not in the mood to talk, remember?" she answered with her head turned sideways, not looking back at Chase then looked back in front of her.

Chase heard her and was becoming angry that she was being so pig-headed. He did break out in a run but always kept his eye on her. He watched her as she looked at the upcoming intersection in front of her but she didn't stop. He caught the yellow flashing sign on the other side indicating no one was to walk.

He quickly glanced at the intersection to check for oncoming traffic and his heart stopped. A commuter bus was in the middle and headed straight towards her.

"STOP!" he screamed as loud as he could, his voice cracking. But it rested on deaf ears.

Cameron never saw what hit her. Chase watched in horror as she hit the side of the bus right before the back right tire and her body whirled around in a blur. He could see her scarf whirl in the air as she flew 15 feet back toward the curb. He swore he heard her body hit the concrete slab of the sidewalk as he started to run as fast as he could to her.

When he reached her he knelt down beside her. She was lying on her back with her right leg bent awkwardly outward and her right arm over her face; her left arm was draped across her chest.

"Allison…god, noo…" he whispered.

He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Doctors House and Foreman raced out of the restaurant in a flash. Just as the door was about to close behind them their waitress raced after them as she screamed they hadn't paid the bill. House yelled to Foreman to pay over his shoulder as he rushed down the block. Foreman moaned, pulled out $20 more than the bill should have been and raced after House.

It was easy to catch up with him, though, for House limped as fast as he could, which impressed Foreman. He'd only seen House move that quickly once – when the baby was being suffocated by the woman whom they believed was mentally compromised.

Sirens whistled urgently in the background as the two men ran to the intersection a block away. As they got closer they could see several people standing around and the flashing light of a police car.

Foreman squeezed passed House at the last minute and approached Chase, who was kneeling above Cameron with just his shirt; he had taken off his coat to cover her. Working in the ER, he knew better than to move her at all, fearing she might have cervical spine damage. He impatiently waited for the ambulance to arrive and whispered softly into her ear. He wiped the blood softly draining from her ear and mouth and told her she'd be fine repeatedly.

But she couldn't hear him. She was unconscious. Chase had checked her pupil reaction which at first appeared fine, but the second time he saw something that concerned him.

"Chase, what the _hell _did you do?" House yelled as he approached the scene and stood behind Foreman.

"House, knock it off! Chase, what happened?" Foreman asked as he, too, knelt down beside Chase to check Cameron's condition.

"Nothing…she just ran out…I called for her…she didn't stop…wouldn't st…" Chase's voice cracked as he tried to remain calm and not break down.

The rumble of the ambulance's engine and whistling sirens approached the intersection and stopped where the policeman directed the driver. The two paramedics hurried to their patient and told Chase to step off.

"I'm a doc…tor. Her pupils are dilated and I think I saw blood in her right eye. Please…help her," Chase pleaded. Foreman reached for Chase's shoulder to pull him back but he resisted.

"Chase, let them do their job. Come on." Chase finally consented and stood beside Foreman, who stood beside House to purposefully keep the two men separate.

He knew the tension between them was rough and the last thing he needed was for the two to go at each other. But that wasn't to be the case.

"House, you finally did it!" Chase screamed at House. "If you would have just kept your slimy palms off of her she wouldn't have run out…"

"Chase, CHASE! Cool it! It wasn't his fault!"

"Yes, it was!"

Foreman saw Chase's right arm rise and put his hand on his elbow to push him back. House had backed up a step and was actually afraid of Chase. Sure, House had been slammed before but the emotion of seeing Cameron lying wounded on the cold concrete was more than he could handle at the moment and honestly was afraid he would return Chase's throw.

The paramedics tended to Cameron by calling out her name and brushing an ammonia-covered cloth under her nose to try to bring her around. "She's unresponsive…"

After the paramedics put her on the wooden back board and secured her neck with a cervical collar, they lifted her up to the gurney. House insisted they take her to Princeton Plainsboro and Chase pleaded to go to the hospital with her. The driver refused Chase but agreed to take her to PPTH.

"Excuse me, doctor. I need to get a statement from you," an officer said.

"I'll stay with you, Chase, and take you to the hospital," Foreman offered.

"No, no. I want to go with her!" Chase insisted.

"Dr. Chase, I can't allow you to do that. She's in good hands and there's nothing you can do for her," the policeman told him.

An hour later, Cameron was being rushed into surgery to alleviate the bleeding in her brain. The MRI had shown a lot of bleeding in the brain; her right leg had a compound fracture and would require another surgery and she had a concussion; the MRI also revealed internal bleeding but could not ascertain the exact cause of the bleeding.

The question was: if she survived the procedure to relieve the pressure from her brain, would she survive the exploratory surgery to determine where the bleeding was coming from?


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Doctors Chase and Foreman stood at the window of the observation room overlooking the surgeons working on Cameron. They had a lot of work ahead of them – to relieve the pressure on her brain from the bleeding caused by the impact when she fell onto the curb, and to determine if she was strong enough to endure another hour or so to find out where the bleeding was coming from in her abdomen.

The clock on the wall struck 11:15pm. Cameron had been in surgery for only 45 minutes but her heart rate had sustained a normal rhythm and her breathing was steady. Dr. Phillips, the surgeon, would occasionally glance up at the pair and give a nod of the head that everything was going okay.

Foreman stood beside Chase and never left his side since they arrived at Princeton. Foreman was upset about Cameron's condition, of course, but was more upset that House was in his office and not there with them. At first he thought it was best for Chase, if only to lessen the stress he was in. But House was Cameron's boss, and yes, he should be in there with them.

"She kissed him. She said she had a plan but she never mentioned she'd kiss him," Chase said quietly.

"Come on, Chase. We've worked with House long enough to know that he's taught us to go a little out of our comfort zone and…"

"You're defending him?" Chase retorted. "Thanks."

"No, but you have to admit, we've all changed since we started working here. Don't you think just a little bit that that's why we wanted to work with him?"

"I never wanted to work with him. My father called him."

"Okay, then. I know you weren't close to your dad but don't you think he did that to benefit you? He had no stake in getting you to work with House," Foreman said.

"This has nothing to do with my father…I'm just so tired..." Chase started to say but stopped himself as he leaned back against the wall beside the window.

Foreman noticed his hands were shaking, as was his voice, and his eyes were beginning to flame with anger. He was seriously becoming concerned. That could only mean one thing: Chase's patience had begun to wane and that couldn't be good news.

"Chase, let me go get you coffee," Foreman offered.

"I don't want coffee. I need to kick his…" Chase started to say but the phone on the wall beside Chase rang.

Foreman reached over and put it to his ear. "House, I'm not leaving him."

He remained silent for a second as he listened to House and replaced the phone. "I'll be back in ten minutes. You'll be all right?"

Just then, the door opened and Cuddy walked in. She wore jeans, sneakers and a light pink sweater. Foreman approached her at the door, out of hearing range of Chase.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he objected.

"He needs rest. He'll be fine," she told him as she broke from him and walked toward Chase.

"How's she doing?" she asked as Foreman left the room.

"So far, fine. But that doesn't mean she won't be mentally…"

"Chase, don't even think that. Phillips is the best brain surgeon on the east coast. She'll be fine," she said as she affectionately touched his shoulder for reassurance.

A few minutes later, Foreman entered House's office. He looked on his desk and saw the can of soda, with the top popped, and the pills that rested beside the can.

"Look, you've already put us through hell, especially Chase. I don't think doing this will make it any better between you two," Foreman protested.

House remained silent, put the pills into the can, swirled it and handed it out to Foreman. He hesitated a moment before he took it and walked toward the door.

"She kissed me," House said quietly. Foreman stopped just as he touched the door handle. He turned around and gave House a look of disgust.

"You knew they were together. You shouldn't have…"

"Would you have stopped a hottie like Cameron kissing _you_?"

"That's not the point. You've gone too far, House, even for you," Foreman answered and walked out the door. House watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight.

"She kissed me," House said to an empty room.

Back in the observation room, Cuddy and Chase were standing at the window watching the scene below. Foreman walked up to them and handed the can to Chase.

"Chase, take it," Cuddy said. He took it eventually but didn't immediately take a sip.

Cuddy and Foreman walked to the door to talk. "He didn't say a word while you were gone."

"Just wait 'til he drinks. He's taking it worse than I thought he would," Foreman said.

Cuddy and Foreman watched Chase anxiously waiting for him to take a sip. After a few minutes he took a long swig. Cuddy held her breath and waited.

Chase drank about half the can before they saw his legs buckle underneath him and he dropped the can, soda fizzing and spreading on the carpet. Cuddy and Foreman rushed to his side and held onto his arms for support before he fell flat on his face.

"No…you didn't…I can't…I won't leave her," Chase mumbled. His eyes seem to fade of life and closed heavily, his body collapsing heavily into their arms.

"Okay, I've got my couch ready for him," Cuddy told him as the two carried Chase toward the door.

Just as Foreman opened the door they heard from the operating room below, "Doctor, her blood pressure is falling!"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

House stood on the balcony outside of his office and stared out at the trees and grass covered with a dusting of snow. It was always quieter when it snowed. He loved it when it was quiet. He could drown himself in his thoughts, but then again, he'd always found a way to do that regardless of the quiet. And now he was drowning harder and faster than he'd ever found himself, even when he saw Stacy for the first time after five years when Mark was sick.

He jumped when he heard a voice behind him but didn't turn to face where it came from.

"House, have some coffee," Cuddy said, handing the cup to him and stood as close to him as she could without getting 'too' much into his space.

He finally turned and looked at the cup then up at Cuddy. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his face. They were red, swollen and still tear-filled.

"I just came up from checking on Cameron. When we left with Chase she went into cardiac arrest but they brought her around. She needed four more liters of blood after they did exploratory in her abdomen. They found the bleeding and stopped it after needing to remove her spleen. She's still going to need surgery to repair her right leg. She's still in critical condition."

House didn't say a word, only leaned against the balcony and bowed his head.

"House, please, come inside. You're not doing yourself any good…" she said softly and affectionately.

"It doesn't matter what I do, Cuddy. I never do myself any good. Everyone keeps telling me that," he snapped.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed her body against him, not to flirt with him but to keep him warm. "How…Greg, there's nothing we can do now, except maybe pray."

"Oh, _please_. Like that'll help."

"Greg, stop it. There's nothing you could have done…"

"Nothing I could have done? I didn't have to kiss her back!"

House stood tall and took a step back, taking aim at the coffee cup still in her hand and snatched it away so hard that it flew out of her hand and hit the glass to Wilson's office, causing only a small crack.

"House, what in the hell?!"

"It's ok, it's Wilson's window, not mine," House answered and walked back into his own office. Cuddy stood in shock, not that he threw the cup into the glass, but his nonchalance at breaking it.

"That's gonna cost you five clinic hours!" she shouted out after him just as the door closed behind him. She didn't mean it. She was just as worried about Cameron as everyone else, she just hadn't realized it.

Several hours passed and Cameron was finally out of surgery and taken to ICU. Chase was still sleeping on Cuddy's couch in her office with Foreman lying on the floor closer to her desk. Cuddy had gone home with a guarantee she'd get a phone call if there were any changes in Cameron's condition.

House was in Cameron's room. Alone. In his thoughts. Again. Sitting in a chair by the window, a window that had fogged up from his hot breath that had been pressed against the window.

He couldn't look at her. He heard the beeps of the monitor and knew she was okay. Her heart was, anyway. But he couldn't look at her.

Not now.

Not yet.

Not the way he knew she'd look.

That's not how he wanted to remember her in case…


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

Chase had just come around from the effects of the sedative House slipped into the soda Foreman gave him hours earlier. It was just coming up on 7:30am. Chase was dazed and not quite sure where exactly he was. The last thing he remembered was being in the surgery observation booth watching Cameron…

Cameron…was in surgery?

"Allison?" Chase mumbled. He tried to sit up, but as he did, even though he stopped, he felt as if his upper torso would continue until it hit the other side of the couch. He slowly looked around the room as he attempted to focus on the items in the room to determine where he was.

As he finally sat up and threw his legs over the side of the couch, he suddenly realized he was in Cuddy's office. He continued to look around the room and saw Foreman, asleep on the floor by her desk. He put his head in his hands and tried to gather his thoughts.

Yes, it was true – Cameron was, or had been in surgery – was she okay?

Tentatively, Chase stood until the dizziness stopped and he was able to take a few steps without passing out. As he passed the nurse's station in the lobby nurse Brenda asked him if he was okay. He didn't answer because he hadn't heard her. His thoughts were strictly on Cameron. He prayed she was okay. He would find out soon enough.

Up in Cameron's room, she was still unconscious but breathing on her own, with only an oxygen tube in her nostrils but wires hooked up to her chest to monitor her vitals. Her face was awkwardly full and very bruised, as were both of her eyes; the swelling in her brain had caused her eyes to become so swollen she wouldn't have been able to open them had she awaken. Her right leg was only slightly bandaged but was secured to an apparatus that kept her leg propped up at an angle to keep pressure off her leg which had sustained major damage. It would be a few days before she would be strong enough to undergo surgery to repair her leg.

Beside her bed, asleep with his head on his folded arms on the mattress beside her arm, was House, his forefinger barely enclosed in her curled palm. An hour earlier, he had gathered enough courage to look at Cameron for the first time since he'd last seen her in surgery. He was shocked at her appearance. Cameron was a beautiful woman, House admitted to himself, but to see her like this was too much for him. He had begun to breathe heavily as he tried to catch his breath as he approached her bed.

"Cameron, I'm so…sorry," he said. And he'd meant it.

Dr. James Wilson unlocked his office door at 7:45am, not looking forward to telling his first appointment that their five year old daughter had leukemia. He turned on the coffee pot to make a fresh pot but realized he'd forgotten he used the last packet the day before. He headed next door to House's office but was surprised it was still locked and that even Cameron wasn't in yet; she was always there promptly at 7:30am every morning. He grumbled something about needing to get a key to the door then headed down to Cuddy's office to borrow from her. He frowned when he saw Foreman asleep on the floor, looking very uncomfortable.

"Foreman…hey," Wilson said, lightly pressing his foot against his thigh to gently wake him up.

"Wha…what?" Foreman said as he suddenly sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at Wilson, stood and asked, "How is she?"

"How's who? Why are you laying on the floor?" Wilson asked perplexed.

**,SIDENOTE: EXCUSE THE PERFORATED LINES. THEY MEAN NOTHING**

"Oh, Cameron got in an accid…hey, where's Chase?"

The two men headed out the door together, Foreman telling Wilson what had happened the night before.

Up in the ICU ward, Chase approached the nurse's desk and asked which room Cameron was in. After he got the room number he walked down the hall, as apprehensive as House was to see what kind of condition she would be in.

He slid between the curtains that surrounded her bed and instantly grew livid at seeing House asleep beside her, their hands touching affectionately, more affectionately than any boss and subordinate should be.

He was torn between ignoring what he saw and giving House a good kick in the ribs. He hated House for a lot of reasons, but this was enough to drive any man into a fit of anger, rage, jealousy – too many emotions to deal with under the current circumstances.

He walked up to the other side, looking at the monitor and relaxed a bit when he saw her vitals were strong. His heart sank. _It shouldn't have happened. _

A noise in the hall woke House up and he sat up with a start. His eyes were swollen, sunken, and dark under the eyes. Chase's right fist curled up into a ball as if he were going to throw a punch at House. But this wasn't the time or the place.

There'd be time for that later.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

'_Cameron, I'm sorry.'_

_House, is that you? House, talk to me. I don't blame you. I didn't see the bus…I was just…confused. Answer me! I've been seeing Chase for a few weeks now. Kissing you was the only way I could think of to get your blood. I didn't think you'd kiss back…why did I do it? Chase is gonna be pissed. Chase, I'm sorry._

"House, leave," Chase demanded sternly.

House sat up and stared him down.

"You can't make me leave," he answered as he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes.

"I need to be with her, alone."

"You've already been alone with her. So have I," House egged on.

"What are you trying to prove, House? Yeah, we're together. You jealous?" Chase egged him right back.

House stood, grabbed his cane and walked to the end of the bed.

"I've punched you once. I can do it again," House said.

"You don't scare me, House."

"You should be. This isn't over," House warned.

"Not by a long shot!" Chase promised as House walked out the door.

Chase walked to the other side of the bed and sat in the chair House had just been in.

"Allison, I know you did what you had to do. I'm not mad at you. Just come back. We need you here…_I_ need you here," he said quietly as he rubbed his bent forefinger against her pale, clammy cheek.

House walked back to his office fuming inside, as if he was the one that iniated the kiss. _What's the big deal?_

He sat down heavily in his chair and looked at the phone. There was one message. He debated with himself over and over whether he really wanted to find out who called. But, as always, curiosity got the best of him.

He reached over, hit the 'message' key and waited for the message.

'Hun, it's Mom. Dad's had another heart attack. He's in surgery now. They're doing an angioplasty. Call me on my cell. It's on. Please, come if you can.'

He hit the 'erase' key and leaned back in his chair. He watched as Wilson walked into his office and sat in the chair across the desk. He didn't immediately start talking and the two men just stared at each other for a brief moment.

"So, how was it?" Wilson finally asked.

House frowned and asked, "How was what?"

"The kiss between you and Cameron."

"Not exactly something I want to brag about."

"Oh, come on, House! You are _dying_ to tell me about it!"

"Yeah, well, if she weren't lying unconscious after kissing a bus, oh, crap! You meant when she kissed the _bus_. Wow, you're good," House snickered.

"House! That's not funny," Wilson said appalled.

House sighed. "Yeah, I know. Got a call from Mom. Dad's in the hospital."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine," House said nonchalantly.

"You're going to go see him, aren't you?"

"No, no need to. Besides, Cameron needs me here."

"She does not. You should go…"

"Why should I?!"

"Because, he's your father."

"No, he's a sperm donor. That's it."

"That's harsh."

"So is he. Give me one good reason why I should," House said harshly.

"Uh, because he might die. Isn't that good enough?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Hi! Thanks for the reviews; they mean a lot and I'm glad you all like it._

_One thing that has been brought up: the fact that 'House did nothing wrong' and Chase having an attitude. That issue will be covered, ok:o) Thanks for mentioning it, though, because it's another arc I can add. Steph_

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Several days had passed since House got the call about his dad's surgery. He had politely told his mom that he was involved in a very tricky case, which she didn't believe. She couldn't blame her son for that, after all the things his father put him through. Still, that was no excuse for him not to come see his father. She hated being stuck in the middle of her husband and son, but although she'd support her husband on certain situations, she'd always talk with her son that it wasn't entirely his fault. She had repeatedly told him that his father didn't have a good childhood himself, but that didn't ease House's trepidation about their relationship. She just couldn't make him understand his father, no matter how often and hard she tried. The stories Mom House told her son about his father's upbringing never did bring any sympathy from House.

'_Honey, please try to understand where your father is coming from,' _Blythe said one day when House was about 14.

'_There's a lot you don't know, but I'm only telling you this because I'm hoping something will click inside you and you'll have some idea of where your father is coming from._

'_You know Granpa House died very young and left Granma with your father and four uncles, aged from 6 years to 17, your dad being the middle boy. Granma couldn't handle raising all five children on her own, so she had her sister and brother-in-law raise your father when he was about your age; she kept the two smaller boys and the two older boys worked to help pay the bills._

'_It was hard on him. His uncle reared him in the carpentry business until he was 18, when he joined the Marines. They treated him well and he was given so many opportunities, more opportunities he wouldn't have had had Granma kept him with her. She did it to protect her son, to give him a better life than she thought she could provide herself. He was at a vulnerable age, you see. _

'_But she did it because she loved him, but your father never saw it that way. In your father's eyes, he could only see that his mother gave him away, that she didn't love him anymore. That seriously hurt him and he never got over that. _

'_When I first met him at Ft Hood, he wasn't like he is now. Actually, he was worse. When we started dating, it was only after six months that he finally trusted me enough to be himself when we'd go out. I think it was more like he was afraid that I'd hurt him, so much so that he was afraid to give me a part of him he swore he'd never give anyone.'_

'_Do you understand, honey?'_

House never did understand, although he tried once. After his father forced him to sleep outside once and punished him with cold baths, he gave up trying. So much anger, pain and resentment built up within House that he decided it wasn't worth it. Nope, his father wasn't worth it. Never was, never would be.

Cameron's condition hadn't improved and she'd since slipped into a coma. Chase spent the past few nights at her bedside, only leaving to use the bathroom or get something to eat in the cafeteria. Foreman took over House's clinic duty, with Cuddy's permission, while House would drop by to check on her condition and to find the cause of the coma.

The exhaustion Chase felt made him too vulnerable to House's attacks and he said little to him whenever he'd come by. House would discuss with Chase the reasons why she'd deteriorated, and he offered little clues, only saying that it wasn't uncommon for head trauma cases to do so.

That alone bothered House. His main concern was getting her back, and it wasn't looking good. Physically, she'd recover fine. But the bleeding in her brain, if things continued to go the way they were, would more than likely cause mental damage.

House would have to hire another pion, and he didn't want to have to do that.

No one could replace Cameron.

He wasn't willing to have to train someone new.

He wouldn't give up on her.

She wouldn't die.

He wouldn't let her die.

Not as long as House himself breathes.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Later that afternoon House went to check on Cameron before he went home for the night, and was relieved when he found Chase wasn't there. Foreman stood at the window looking out. House stopped at the door for a brief moment before walking to Cameron's bed. He found it hard to look at her, only asking Foreman her condition.

He turned to look at House and was a little shocked at how bad he looked. The stubble on his face was thicker than he'd ever seen it, and his eyes appeared as if he hadn't slept in three days, since the day she slipped into the coma.

"She's stable and breathing on her own, which is a good sign. She's responding to pain stimulation and her stats are normal. House, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uh, since the dinosaurs ruled the earth. Go home," he replied.

Foreman couldn't help but grin at his comment, knowing House would be fine due to his ability to carry on with his snarkiness. Foreman approached him and put his hand on his shoulder; he could feel him pull away but didn't remove his hand.

"House, she'll be fine. There have been other patients in worse shape than she is and they pulled through. Have faith."

House looked at Foreman skeptically. "George Michael has Faith, hell, Faith Hill has faith, but I'll never have faith." Foreman shook his head and left House alone with her.

His thoughts raced as he pulled down the guard rail of the bed and sat down on the mattress at her hips. He remembered the surprise in himself at his body shaking the closer she got to him, her body pressing against his, the softness of her hands as they caressed his chin and cheeks, her hot breath on his lips right before her moist lips brushed against his.

He fought her, at first, but something came over him. Something he hadn't expected – he liked it. Cameron was the first woman he'd ever kissed since Stacy – hell, it was better than kissing Stacy. It was passionate, but not meaningless; it was sexy, yet not slutty; it was … comforting.

But there was something he couldn't put his finger on, something that bothered him.

His thoughts went back to the time he was shot and the hallucination he'd had with Cameron on the gurney in the operating room showing 'Giant Tongue Man' the computerized surgical machine. He seductively traced the knife apparatus to the top button of her blouse and popped it off …

… and it suddenly came to him: he _did_ care for her. But he felt he wasn't good enough for her. He couldn't bring himself to sleeping with her when he knew it would mean more to her than it would to him. And he'd only hurt her. She didn't deserve that. Not Cameron …

House heard his name and at first thought he was imagining it but soon realized it was Chase's voice. He'd been standing behind him for several minutes.

"Are you okay? You kinda zoned out," Chase asked as he walked around to the other side of the bed. He checked her vitals and only when he was satisfied did he relax and sit in the chair beside the bed.

"Yeah," he answered, shifting his body on the mattress before he stood and turned to walk out.

_Don't go …_

House shook his head, as if that would keep his memories at bay and he would no longer hear her pleading voice in his head.

… _Come baaaack …_

Unexpectedly, at hearing her voice for the second time, he knew it wasn't a memory or a hallucination or that he'd finally lost his mind.

It _was _Cameron's voice.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

House turned sharply back around to look at her, and found Chase at her side, his hand running over her cheek, forehead, his soft voice asking her name, where she was, etc. House couldn't move. He looked at the two and realized that maybe he did lose his chance to be with her. He berated himself for giving up on her – hell, not ever giving her a chance.

He took one small, tentative step toward the bed, taking out the small pen light in his pocket.

"Cameron, what's your name?" Chase asked, his voice shaking as if he were holding back tears.

"You moron! You don't ask someone their name and _tell_ them their name," House said as he gently got close to her and ordered her to follow the light, up, down, side to side. Her reaction time was perfect and she never took her eyes off of House, totally ignoring Chase.

"Cameron, do you remember what happened?" House asked.

"Hmmphhh, ummm…" Her voice was shaky and deep. She swallowed hard and her face contorted in pain because of the air tube that had been down her throat during surgery. "Mmmm chesss tight," she mumbled.

"You spent almost six hours in surgery. They had to remove your spleen because of internal bleeding and you suffered a concussion. You're going to need more surgery on your leg – it's fractured," House told her, then continued. "What's your first name?"

She hesitated a moment and finally answered. House continued with the questions and he was satisfied there was no long-lasting effects from the bleeding in her brain and the concussion. "What is the last thing you remember?"

She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "Dinner…" she turned to Chase and continued, "with you and Foreman." She turned back and looked at House, reaching out for House with her right hand. "I guess you had to work late."

Whatever contentment House had about her coming around evaporated, as if a cold front came through the room and sucked all the air out, leaving him barely able to breathe. He looked at Chase but tried to hide his apprehension, which he looked right through.

"I wanna go home," she muttered, "Sleep in our bed." House could no longer hide his trepidation.

"Cameron, you have your own place," Chase finally spoke.

She nodded her head and squeezed House's hand. She tried to smile but the many stitches in the corner of her mouth stretched and it hurt her, but she was able to whisper. "What's he talking about?"

Chase noticed House nod at the IV, then up at the bag of fluids, which included the morphine drip. He took it to siphon the morphine to be released with the fluids, which he did.

"Gre…, we live togetherrrr…" Her voice trailed off, she closed her eyes and was asleep in moments.

Chase looked up at House, frown lines exploded over his eyes and stretched across his forehead.

"Oh, god," Chase said under his breath.

House slowly pried his hand free of Cameron's and nodded toward the door, indicating to Chase to follow him out. A minute later the two men stood out in the hallway, Chase leaned against the wall.

"She does have brain dam…" Chase started to say but House cut him off.

"We don't know that. It could be from the anesthetic."

"House! She thinks she lives with you! Apparently that's brain damage!"

"I'm not getting into this with you right now," House replied sternly.

Chase took a step closer to House. "You _knew_ we were together. And you kissed her."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You've said that before. Don't you think you are taking your stress over Cameron out on me?"

"Hell, no! I c_are_ about her! You don't! You don't give a _damn_ about anyone but yourself! You'd only hurt her."

"Like I said, I'm not getting into thi…"

Chase took a step closer, their noses only inches apart. "I will NOT let you hurt her!"

"I'm not going to hurt her because I'm not _with_ her."

"House, everyone knows how she feels about you."

"Felt. Felt about me. She made that perfectly clear. Besides, seems she's chosen you, anyway."

"What's going on out here? You two lower your voices," Cuddy said as she approached the two and tried to separate them. "How's Cameron?"

Neither men spoke. They just stared at each other.

"House, Chase, in my office," she demanded. "Now."

"I can't. I've got a headache," House answered cockily.

"See! That's what I mean! She's lying in there in critical condition with…and you can't even _pretend _to be worried about her. She doesn't deserve you!"

"Well, if you knew _anything_, you'd know there's nothing we can do now. She will come around on her own. All anyone can do for her now is to give her time."

House walked away but Chase called out to him, "She may not _have_ that much time!"


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

House walked into the conference room beside his office and suddenly he felt completely drained emotionally. He wanted coffee and needed it badly. He needed to clear his head. Aside from the attack from Chase he _was_ worried about Cameron. It was becoming quite clear that the concussion did cause some sort of damage to her mentally, but then again, after what Foreman had been through, he'd returned to himself after a time. Cameron would come back. She had to, _had _to.

He picked up his favorite coffee cup, the red one, and looked at it for a second. It was the cup Cameron bought him a few years earlier for Christmas. And it was his favorite, although never even thanked her. He berated himself for that, and many other things he had been thoughtless about with her the past three years she'd been working with him.

Inside, the anger abruptly built up within him. He was pissed at her for running out of the restaurant; angry at his dad that he just _had_ to have a heart attack while all this was going on; disgusted at the server in the cafeteria downstairs that put cream in his coffee when he didn't ask for it. He was livid.

He was just plain livid at the world. But that was alright with him. He always had been. Why change things now?

The next thing he knew a loud crash reverberated throughout the room and he turned to look at the window looking out into the hallway. The glass was shattered and in shards all over the carpet. And he felt nothing.

"What the hell did you do?!" Wilson exclaimed as he walked into the room, startled at the mess.

"We needed a bigger door," House snickered.

Wilson could only put his hands on his hips and stare at House. He had always been insensitive, thoughtless, rude and a million other non-likeable words. But a violent temper was not one of House's faults.

House sighed deeply and sat down in the chair, put his face in his hands and let out his breath slowly.

"House," Wilson said as he, too, took a seat across from him, "you need to go home and get some sleep."

"And what makes you think you know what I need?"

"Well, for one, you sure didn't need to break that glass. Isn't that the second you broke in three days?"

House looked up at Wilson but cupped his chin in the palms of his hands. "Did I do the wrong thing?" House asked weakly.

"Uh, yeah. Cuddy's going to make you pay for that or give you more clinic hours."

"That's not what I meant."

Wilson frowned as he tried to think of what House was talking about. "Oh, I forgot. Your mom called me."

House's head shot up and threw his hands in the air. "Oh, great. It just keeps getting better and better," House said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up! She hasn't heard from you in three days. You haven't even _called _her about your dad."

"That's really none of your business," he snapped.

"None of my…none of my business?" Wilson burst out. "Look, I know you are going through a lot right now and I wish there was something I could do. But there isn't. Don't attack me because you have pent up frustration."

"I need to get out of here."

"Good, you finally listened to me."

"No, I mean away from here."

"You're just going to up and leave? Cuddy told me about Cameron and she's still critical. You're going to escape, escape like you always do. That's great. I'm not surprised. Just promise me this, House," Wilson said as he stood up and pushed the chair in, "If I'm lying on my death bed, don't bother hanging around. If you did, I'd know the world is coming to an end."

Wilson walked out, leaving House to stare at his backside dumfounded. This was the first time anything Wilson had said to him really cut with a knife. Honestly, there had been other times when it was close, but this was it.

He needed a drink and needed it badly. He packed up his belongings, walked out of his office and headed home. He had a lot of thinking to do.

Should he stay in Jersey to be with Cameron when she wakes up?

Should he go to Michigan to see his dad? Not so much his dad, but to be there to support his mother.

_When life gives you lemons, put in some whiskey and drink 'til you forget you had lemons in the first place._


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks for the reviews. Again, I'm glad everyone likes it. As one commented, "don't let House go to Michigan." I debated that but him going to Michigan is pivotal to the story. You'll soon know why._

_And yes, reviews – good or bad – are always welcome. Steph_

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

The flight had been uneventful, but the anxiety he felt abated after three drinks he'd had in thirty minutes, not to mention the vicodin was the cherry on top. He kept looking out the window at the clouds below the plane; he felt like he was in space, the air getting thinner and thinner and it became harder for him to breathe.

His thoughts drifted to earlier that morning at the hospital. Chase and Foreman were still doing clinic duty, since Cuddy had not wanted House and his team to have a case until Cameron was up on her feet and well on her way to recovery, which was fine with House. He hadn't talked to Wilson since the night before when they had the fight. And he didn't really want to see him before he left.

The MRI done the day before showed slight damage in Cameron's left hemisphere that involved memory; it was the area that sustained the most impact and caused the bleeding in her brain. It wasn't that she lost her memory, she hadn't. It was as if her brain had 'recharged' and created another reality for her. Dr. Foreman reassured House and Chase that with any impact to the brain that a fantasy past is not uncommon, and that in 80 of the cases patients did revert to function as it was before the accident within three months.

He'd called his mom to tell her he'd be in at eight that night, then went to see Cameron once more before he left. She was sleeping when he walked in and didn't look as bad as she had the day before. Her vitals were strong, and yes, she was on her way to recovery. But what bothered him was the fact that she was delusional. She had woken up several times since her initial surgery and it was the same every time: she'd want to see House. But he avoided her as much as he could. He didn't know what he'd say to her. If it had been anyone else he would have told them the truth. But he couldn't with Cameron.

He'd reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope, looked at her name in his handwriting and debated whether he wanted to leave it for her or not. After a few minutes he put it in the top drawer of the cabinet next to the bed. He took one last look at her and gently rubbed the back of her hand with his fingers. Something stirred within him, something familiar but scary.

He was torn between what his heart wanted and what his brain told him he didn't need.

Risks – House was used to taking risks, but not with his heart. He had once before and he gained nothing. Or, that was what he told him self over and over, whether that was the truth or not.

Back on the plane, it had just landed and he felt his heart beat harder and faster with trepidation. His mother told him that Debra, his cousin on his father's side, would meet him at the gate to help with his luggage. "Needing help with his luggage" was an admission of weakness on House's part, and he hated that. Weakness was not an option, neither was being compassionate nor sympathetic nor feeling love, all those humanly emotions that makes a person human.

He'd argued a little bit with his mom before consenting to it. After all, he hadn't even seen her since she was 11 years old, although he had seen pictures of her. But a person's picture never truly looked the same in person.

He walked out of the gate and looked around at the faces of his fellow passengers hugging their loved ones, some crying, some laughing, some kissing. He suddenly noticed a woman waving her hand in the air to get his attention. She looked familiar and was sure it was his cousin, Debra. She walked toward him with her arms out, as if to get a hug. He instantly and instinctively pulled away, but her hug was tight and felt somewhat, if strangely, reassuring.

"Scooter!" she exclaimed as she broke away from him and took his duffle bag.

"Hey," he simply said.

"Come on. I've got a close spot with dad's handicapped parking sticker. You're in luck," she said as they walked down the hall to the parking lot. Debra talked non-stop. It annoyed House but he let her talk, occasionally smiling to let her know he was listening. And we _was_ listening.

"He's being released day after tomorrow. He's doing really well. Your mom is fine, since my mom's there. You know how close they always were, even if they didn't see each other often. My dad is great. He couldn't come because he had a big meeting with the board of directors at the bank."

"Why did you come?" House asked out of curiosity as they got in her car.

"I needed a vacation; I haven't done anything since the cruise in September. Besides, mom doesn't really like to drive so I came with her. I have to tell you, I'm not sure if I like that stubble on your face or not."

"Oh, the hookers love it."

"Oh, right. Aunt Blythe said you spend all your money on hookers," Debra said seriously.

House looked at her in shock and had to remember to close his mouth.

Debra bust out laughing then said, "Oh, calm down. I'm just joking. What happened to your sense of humor?"

House smiled and tried not to laugh. He'd forgotten her quick wit. She was the complete opposite from him: loving, funny, affectionate, sweet, fun to be around, at least a foot shorter and blonde hair. She took after her mom, Sharon. The only thing they had in common was their blue eyes, although hers was a bit more blue-grey that changed if she wore anything dark or navy blue.

After a few minutes of silence between them Debra turned on the radio and sang along with Carrie Underwood's new song. They didn't talk the rest of the drive.

They finally got to Blythe and John's place and parked in the street. Debra got out and took his bag from the back seat and waited for House to get to the end of the driveway. He stayed in the car and stared at her, wanting to take vicodin before he got out but she was watching him. It didn't bother him if she knew he took them, he just didn't want anyone else to know. He took the pills with the last of the water he'd gotten on the plane and met her at the driveway.

"They're vicodin," he told her as they walked to the front door. She held the door open for him and before he took the step up he said, "Let's just keep it between you and me, okay?"

Debra nodded her head and smiled. "Your secret is safe with me, but I might spill that you see hookers."

This time House really laughed. For a brief moment he was relaxed and calm. He'd remain that way until he saw his father the next day.


	13. Chapter 13

_Here's a nice, long chapter for y'all. Thanks for all the posts. I appreciate constructive criticism, but please be a little nicer. :o) I do like knowing if I'm off-base. And don't worry, you'll find out what was in the letter. I think he'll only be in Michigan another 2 chapters, but we'll know how Cameron is doing, so don't worry. :o) Steph_

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

House greeted his mother and Aunt Sharon with an excellent performance of delight at seeing them, his mom more so than his aunt, but still. Since they had been at the hospital all day, his mom and aunt went to bed so House settled into the spare bedroom, the one he used whenever he visited, which had been only three times. Debra would be sleeping on the couch, but she had excused herself to run out and get cigarettes at the convenience store down the street.

After half an hour when he still couldn't sleep he went into the living room to watch t.v.. An hour later, Debra walked in with a bag and two slurpees, handing the red one to House. He looked up at her and hesitated taking it at first.

"You remembered," he said with a smile.

She sat down next to him and opened the popcorn, took a big handful and shoved it into her mouth. House simply watched her, staying silent.

"Yep – cherry slurpees, strawberry tootsie pops, cherry popsicles. Figured you still liked the red stuff," she said with her mouthful.

"And you…still have awful table manners," he said as he sucked deeply on the spoon straw.

"Some bad habits never die," she said with a laugh, then a giggle, although to House it was not funny at all, but he continued to stare at her, sizing her up.

"Hey, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, keep it there! I love the chocolate river and lemon tea cups... hmmm, wonder if Aunt Blythe has anything chocolate in the kitchen. I knew I should have gotten a Snickers," Debra said as she stood up and started to walk to the kitchen.

"How long have you been doing it?" he finally asked.

She stopped in her tracks, composed herself and turned around, asking sweetly and innocently, "Doing what?"

"Oh, please. I could always tell when you lied to your mom or snooped in my room and found the Playboys. You know what I mean: getting high."

"What? I'm not high," she giggled, tapping her right foot, making a thumping noise on the hardwood floor.

House gave her a half smile. "Thumper, you've had a toke or few."

"Ah, how sweet. You remembered my nickname. I feel so loved," she said sarcastically. "Look, Mr. pill popper, don't start with me," she said as she sat back down, sipping her slurpee.

"I have a real reason to take pills: I'm in pain. What about you? You got cancer? The chemotherapy side effects get a little easier with a joint."

"No, I don't have cancer. Look, don't worry about it. It's not a big deal," she said as she reached for the remote control.

"No…not until you answer my question."

"Oh, are you playing big, mean brother now?"

"No, but I'm curious as to why such a sweet, adorable _you_ changed into _me_ in two hours' time."

"You're nuts. Think maybe you should stop pop…"

"Oh, shut up!" House said as he sat up and stared her down even harder. "Your eyes are blood shot, dilated and you have the munchies, all the classic signs of a stoner."

"My eyes are _not _bloodshot. I used Visine...Greg, just drop it. You don't know what's going on."

"Maybe not, but I figured between the two of us you'd be less likely to be a druggie."

"It's only been a couple of months. Things are kinda tough right now. Shhhhhh, Veronica is about to sing."

House aimed the remote at the t.v. and switched it off.

"Hey! That's my favorite part!" she objected.

"Debra, look. You had everything any kid would love to have – loving parents, the best clothes, top schools. Why are you messing it up?"

"Oh, that's right. I'm the spoiled brat and you're jealous. You had it rough so you're turning it around on me. Your daddy was mean to you. Poor baby. Deal with your own issues and leave me out of it."

"This isn't about me."

"Oh, isn't it? Your mom had to practically _beg_ you to come. You are completely different than when we were kids. I'm _sorry _you had a sucky childhood."

"Will you shut _up_!" House interjected. "Nothing could be so bad it justifies you frying your brain cells."

Debra threw her hands up in the air and stood up. "I'm tired. I'm going out for one more cigarette then I'm going to bed."

House was done talking, but only for the moment. He liked Debra, always had, even though see was a kid when he knew her. He hated seeing her like this, and sure didn't want her wasting his life like he had. Not that he had, but he was miserable. And that was enough. But it bugged him, and he wasn't going to let her get away with it so easily. He never had before, why start now?

House stepped through the sliding glass door and saw her sitting on the rocking bench in the corner of the back yard, in the garden. He walked toward her and sat down next to her, helping her rock the bench with his left foot. They sat in silence for several minutes in silence.

"Gonna share?" House finally asked as he watched her take a drag from a cigarette.

"You don't smoke," she answered.

"I'm a casual smoker."

She handed him the pack and lighter and he took one, lit it and took a deep drag. "Not as good as a joint but it'll do."

"Remember when you were in Heidelberg.on the base and we drove to the Black Florest that one weekend?" she asked, totally ignoring his joint comment. "We snuck away from your parents and I pretended to be lost. Instead of playing Marco Polo you were Robin of Loxely and I was Guinevere. We spoke with an English accent, well, I did, and rather well I might add, while you did an awful German accent. Man that was fun."

"You were 8 and easily entertained. I was bored."

"No, you weren't, liar," she said with a small laugh. "You got pissed when you couldn't find me after five minutes. Whenever you'd get close I'd get quiet. But you always found me. How?"

"Sweet Honesty. I could always smell it."

This time Debra burst out laughing. "Guess I wasn't as smart of an 8 year old than I thought."

"Yes, you were. You saw _everything_. The simplest things you did you found awe in it. And your imagination was wild. A dreamer. I saw everything in black and white. I still do. But I envied that a little."

She turned to look at him with admiration. "I never told you how much I appreciated you hanging out with me. You were 16 the last time I came to stay with you guys. You should have been out partying with girlfriends or with friends. But you took time to play Monopoly or Connect Four with me. You were always like a big brother to me."

"You have an older brother."

"No, I have an older sibling. We were never close. He was just _there_, kinda like your dad to you."

House's eyes got big and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Yeah, I'd hear you and your dad fighting. It got especially harder for you at 16. I always wanted to come to you afterwards but you seemed to pull away from me a little. When you were 13 I remember hearing you crying in your room. I was young but I remember it, and my heart broke for you."

House simply nodded his head, reached into his pocket and popped two pills.

"Mom told me about your infarction. I wanted to call but mom said you were having a hard time dealing. Does it hurt that much?"

"Yeah, it does."

"Does it help you to forget?"

"Forget what?" House asked, feigning stupidity.

"Your dad hitting you," Debra asked softly.

He didn't answer her but she continued talking.

"I noticed the bruises, especially the one on your nose. You had a black eye the whole time I was there. That's where the scar on your nose came from. I always wished you'd come to live with us sometimes."

She looked at him the whole time, but he avoided eye contact until she made that comment.

"Is it bad?" he asked.

"Yeah. My ex, he beat me. So I didn't really know how you felt or what you were going through as a kid until then."

"When did it start?"

"Last year, after he moved in with me. The first time, well, I thought it was my fault. "The second time, I _knew_ it was my fault. The third time I…I…" Tears filled her eyes and she couldn't speak. She swallowed hard and tried to get her voice back. "I lost my baby."

"I'm sorry," he said gently and with compassion.

"I never even knew I was pregnant until the day after and I started bleeding heavily. Thank god I never told mom and dad."

"I _was_ jealous of you," he said softly, so much so she had to ask him to repeat it. It was harder for him to say it the second time than it did the first time.

"I knew you were, that's why I wanted you to come to stay with us."

"Debra, it's late. We have a busy day tomorrow," House said as he stood up.

"No, _you _have a busy day tomorrow. Don't you think it's time you talk to your dad?"

"I do talk to him."

"Oh, please. I'm not an eight year old anymore," she replied as she, too, stood up and they walked toward the house. "I mean _talk_ to him, tell him he hurt you."

"Have you dealt with your ex?" he asked as he slid the door open for her.

"No, but I'm seeing a counselor," she answered as she walked through.

"Then tell you what: I'll deal with my dad when you deal with your ex," he said.

"Yeah, I'll think about it," House answered as he closed the door behind him.

He and Debra were more alike than he thought they were. They were both 'damaged', even though he had dealt with it longer than she had.

And House had no intention of 'patching' things up with his dad. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Okay, I think this is a lot to digest, so I kind of left it at a neutral place. I know y'all want House back in Jersey and he_ is _on his way. But here's a little about his Dad and Debra. I think it ended kind of abruptly, but I've lost my mojo and will continue tonight or tomorrow. _**

_**There is one more pivotal scene with House and Debra. I am purposefully not dwelling into House and Papa House's relationship, only because it doesn't really apply here.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews. I hope I'm pleasing everyone as I try to take in readers' thoughts and/or suggestions.**_

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Two days later House was on the plane back to New Jersey. A lot had happened those two days, and he wanted to forget about all of it. But he was left with nothing but memories …

The day before he had gone to the hospital with his mom and aunt, not to see his dad off but to check with the doctor about after-care so he could break it down easier to his mom; Debra decided to stay at the house to clean things up a bit.

When they walked into his room he was already dressed and eating his lunch before he was discharged. Blythe went to give her husband a kiss and House stood by the door, as if he were hiding from his father, while Sharon stood beside him.

"You ready to go, honey?" Blythe asked as she sat on his bed.

"Yes, definitely. This food is horrific; I'll need to come back so they can clean out my bowels."

"_John_," Blythe started to say but he cut her off.

"Well, I'll be damned. My only son actually came to visit me," he said very mean and condescending when he saw House standing by the door.

"Hey, dad," House answered, almost in a whisper.

"Well, let's get out of here," John said as he pushed away the rolling tray and stood up.

"Now, John. We have to wait for the nurse to bring the wheelchair," Blythe said as she handed John his jacket and he put it on.

"I don't need a damned wheelchair!" John exclaimed. "I can walk out on my own two feet. I'm not a cripple, you know."

Those words stung House – no, felt as if his father had shot an arrow into his stomach. But it wasn't as bad as when he was a child. Whenever he'd do something bad (and as an 8 year-old wasn't _all_ that bad) he had to wait for his father to come home, they'd sit and eat dinner then his father would punish him. The butterflies had returned with a vengeance, to the 47 year-man, not the 8 year-old child, making him nauseous and trying hard to push back the cramping.

Just then a nurse came in with a wheelchair and John lost his battle with having to use it. The nurse escorted them out; House had gone ahead of them all to get the car and bring it around to the entrance. It gave him the opportunity to down a few vicodin and take a deep breath before the journey home.

He was not looking forward to it, although he thought John would just go straight to bed. But that thought disappeared as soon as he remembered his father never rested; he was always on the go. The only good thing he had to look forward to was seeing Debra, but he didn't have time to figure out exactly why.

The drive back to his parents' house was quiet, with the exception of Blythe asking John what he wanted for dinner. John was rude, snippy and testy with his wife. She did nothing, nor did she stand up to her husband.

_Just like always, things never change _House thought to himself.

When they got back to the house, House was surprised when his father said he _was_ tired from the trip and did lie down. Blythe helped him get settled into their bed. Debra had started dinner by just finishing up preparing the roast beef and put it in the oven. She had just started peeling the carrots and potatoes when House joined her in the kitchen. Sharon and Blythe stayed in the living room, a place House didn't want to be at the moment. He just wasn't in the mood to listen to his mom give an excuse as to why she never stood up for herself, or for her son when he was a child…hell, even now.

"How did it go, Greg?" Debra asked as she worked, occasionally looking up at him.

"Oh, just freakin' peachy," House grunted. "I wasn't there five minutes before he started in on me."

Debra nodded her head. "Sometimes that's how some people deal with their stress, which doesn't really help anyone, especially the one they're hurting."

House sauntered toward the kitchen table and sat down heavily in a chair. He sighed deeply, considered his words then said, "Debra, forget what I said last night…about you getting high. You have your issues and your own way of dealing with them, and I have mine."

Debra stopped peeling and looked at him. "I'm sorry I went off on you about you having a rough childhood. I shouldn't have said that. My dad had things a little better than your dad did, but that doesn't mean my dad is a perfect man."

House frowned and looked at her intently. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated a moment before she said, "He drinks. But I push myself away from him when he does, which really isn't all that often. With your dad, you push away all the time because he's such a judgmental bastard all the time. I wish things could have been different for you, but if you think about it, that's what makes us the way we are now. You have the gift of sizing people up and knowing the real truth, while the rest of us drudge along not knowing what it is we are good at so we can put it to good use, like you."

"Oh, I'm no saint."

Debra laughed. "Oh, I never said you were!" she said as she pushed a bowl and peeler his way and placed a potato in front of him. "Now help me peel this stuff. There's too much for one person."

"But I'm not good at this!" House protested.

Debra leaned in and whispered, "Fake it, just like you fake liking your dad."

"That was harsh," House said. "True, but harsh."

"We'll get through it, you know," she said with a smile. "Life can't suck all the time."

"Yes it…" Just then House's cell phone rang. "…House," he answered. He was silent for a few seconds before he excused himself to the patio out back.

Debra continued to peel the vegetables but inadvertently sliced the corner of her thumb beside her nail. She cursed and went to the sink to rinse the blood off and noticed House standing underneath the kitchen window. She smiled as she noticed the bald spot on the top of his head and made a mental note to tease him about it later.

But then she heard his voice; it was tense and angry. He was yelling at someone named Wilson. She didn't want to eavesdrop, but when she heard him say, "I don't know how I feel about Cameron." She just knew she had to keep listening.

"… how are her vitals … does she remember anything prior to the accident … did she ask for me …" House was silent for a moment, then he said, "… take the letter out of the top drawer … she what? Oh, shit." House kicked his left foot in the gravel at the foot of the flower bed, sending the tiny rocks against the bricks of the house. "Gotta go."

House closed his cell phone and placed it in his pocket. He turned around too quickly for Debra to duck to avoid him seeing her and all she could do was wave and smile, like she hadn't heard a thing. House didn't smile back at her but looked at her suspiciously.

"You wanna a cig?" Debra asked through the window as she wrapped her thumb in a paper towel. He nodded his head and she said, "Give me a sec."

A few minutes later they were sitting on the rocking bench in the garden again, but neither one was making it rock. Debra wasn't going to pester House. She just hoped he would share with her who Cameron was and why he wrote her a letter.

"Did you catch the whole conversation?" House finally asked as he finished his cigarette and flicked it into the garden.

"Uh, Uncle John doesn't like butts in his garden," she told him. "Just warning ya."

"Fine, I've been warned," he said curtly. "How much did you hear?"

Debra finished her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray beside the bench. "Just from you 'not knowing how you feel about Cameron' on," she answered. "But it wasn't intentional. Look, I cut myself with the peeler," she said as she showed him her thumb, still wrapped in the bloody paper towel.

"I guess you wanna know what I was talking about, huh?"

"No, actually," she told him, "it's none of my business." She used psychology on her cousin, hoping he would tell her anyway and he wouldn't feel as if she pushed him.

"You're right, it isn't," House told her.

_Well, I guess I know why I'm not a shrink,_ Debra thought to herself.

"HEY! You two get in here! These won't get peeled on their own!" Debra's mom yelled out from the sliding glass door.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Dinner had gone smoothly, only because John was still sleeping. The medication the doctor had him on made him drowsy and House reassured Blythe that it was normal for patients to do so.

House enjoyed dinner with his mom, aunt and cousin tremendously. Debra just loved egging House on: when he would look at her, she would make sure she had a mouthful of food and open her mouth full of food (making sure there was a variety of color and 'grossness'), blocking the view of Blythe and Sharon. He would look at her disgustedly, but he really wasn't; he wouldn't smile, but he was smiling on the inside.

House even took pleasure in listening to his Aunt Sharon about her traveling with Uncle George after they'd retired. And intently listened to his mom talk about the gardening she'd be doing when the weather got just a tad bit warmer. He laughed and smiled practically through the entire meal. And he was happy, happy for the first time in years – too many years. It occurred to him that anything pleasurable would never last, but for this brief moment in his life, he hoped it would.

And, indeed it had. They finished eating and the ladies were getting started on cleaning the kitchen. House had mysteriously disappeared into the living room.

"Gregory John, get your tush in here and help us with these dishes!" Blythe fussed at her son.

He rolled his eyes. _I'm in trouble now cuz she used my full name _he thought. He whined his answer, "But my legggg huuuurtzzz."

"Pretend it doesn't and get in here!" Debra shot back, making him smile.

_Okay, tonight's been great. Don't blow it now, Greg. _He slowly stood and headed for the kitchen without his cane but limped more than his leg actually needed it. The pain – the pain was a manageable seven the whole time he helped in the kitchen. Oh, yeah, House was a happy camper.

Half an hour later they were done in the kitchen and all sitting in the living room. Blythe had pulled out the family photo album and shared them with everyone.

"Oh, look, Greg! You're what, 24 in this picture? Based on this full head of hair of yours, it seems that's not when you started to lose your hair." Debra teased with a laugh and a wink.

"Debra Lynn!" her mother scolded her.

"It's okay, Aunt Sharon. Baldness runs in the family, so watch out, lovely cousin! You're next."

"No way! I'll never lose my hair! I'll be beaut-ious for the rest of my life!"

"You will not!" House said.

"Will too," Debra answered.

"Will not!"

"Yes, I _will_!" she replied, and tried hard to hide her smile.

"Nuh-huh!"

"I refuse!! I won't lose my hair! I won't lose one hair on my head! I won't - infinity!" Debra persisted.

"Yes you will! Multiple infinity! "Wait, I thought we were fighting over whether you'll be gorgeous when you are 90?" House shot back, he, too, trying to hide his smile.

"Alright, you children, that's enough," Blythe said then couldn't contain her laughter and they all had a good laugh together.

"We're 40-ish-something, we're allowed to act like children," Debra said with a giggle.

After an hour or so, Blythe and Sharon went to bed, after Sharon insisted that she'd be woken up if John woke up so she could do what she could to help. Blythe was worried that he hadn't eaten since lunch, and again House reassured her it was normal.

All House was hoping for was that John would sleep throughout the night and into the morning, just until he had left for the airport. After he was in the air and on his way home, John could stay awake for the next 48 hours for all he cared.

It was almost 11:00 pm and House was ready to crash, leaving Debra alone in the living room. As tired as he was, he still had trouble falling to sleep, and after two hours he decided to go watch t.v. The bad news was the only t.v. was in the living room. Not bad news for him, but for Debra.

He quietly walked into the room and saw her asleep on the couch, covered with a blanket and her head nestled in a pillow, her head on her left arm holding the remote fragily in her hand.

_Oh, this is gonna be good. _He crept to her side, knelt slightly and gently pulled the remote out of her hand.

Within seconds she jerked awake. "Hey, I'm watching that," she said as she sat up a little.

"You watch t.v. in your sleep?" House asked as he tapped her knees to make room for him on the couch.

"Firstly, I sleep-watch, yes. And secondly, there are two empty chairs."

"But you've already made the cushion warm for me," he said as he sat down.

"Greg," she said as she sat up more and rested her back on the pillow against the arm rest. "Who's Cameron?"

House kept changing channels until he found something that interested him. Unfortunately there was nothing good to watch.

"Allison Cameron, she works for me, for the past three years."

"Was she in an accident?"

House rapidly gave her the details of the accident, but neglected to relay anything further.

"So, she'll be alright?"

House simply nodded his head.

"Greg, I know about Stacy and I'm sorry you two broke up. Believe me, I know how hard it is to let someone in. But you can't…"

"You know _nothing_ about my relationship with Stacy."

"Was she the only woman you ever loved?" she asked as gently and softly as she could.

"What is your problem? Why do you care?"

Debra sighed heavily and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "Because I can see it in your eyes - you seem so lonely and sad."

"I'm not in the mood for this right now," he snapped.

"Oh, come _off_ it, Greg! Stop being this cold, heartless, 'I'm not gonna love anyone because, boo-hoo, I don't deserve it' man. Or 'I'm not good enough to be loved' whining crap!"

House stood up, walked to the bottom of the stairs and stood there; Debra stood up and met him in the hallway.

"Go ahead! Run away like you always do! I've been there! God, I'm not trying to be a bitch. I just want you to see you _do_ deserve someone. Don't you get it? I've pushed men away for 20 years because of my father. You are in no way your father! And you shouldn't let that stop you from falling in love again."

House never turned around to look at her, but he felt tears welt up in his eyes. He tried to fight them back and felt his stomach churning.

"Have you been talking to my mom?" House whispered.

"I'll never reveal my source. But Greg, I'm serious," Debra said as she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at her. "Whoever this Cameron is, you need to figure out what you want from her, because she may just be 'the one' for you. Maybe kick you in the ass when you need it or keep you in line," she said with a smile.

'…Maybe kick you in the ass when you need it…'

Those were the last words on his mind, and the feeling of Debra in his arms when they said goodbye, as House drifted off to sleep on flight 0236 to Trenton, New Jersey.

And they were the words that changed his outlook on life…and love.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

House arrived in Trenton in the late afternoon that Saturday and decided to head to PPTH to check on Cameron. He figured it would be a good time because neither Chase nor Foreman would be there. The sun was just setting and for the first time in a long while he actually noticed how seductive the orange, red and yellow sky was against the setting sun on the horizon.

But words alluded him at the moment. What would he say to her about his letter? Would he deny he even wrote it? He sighed heavily and walked into her room, hoping she'd be asleep. She wasn't.

"House," Cameron said softly. "It's good to … hmmmph … ow…"

"Cameron, what is it? What hurts?" House asked worried as he approached the bed.

"My chest … head … but they're … okay. I'm still sore. Wilson told me you w … ent to see your dad. Is he okay?"

"Never mind about my dad. I see you've gotten your leg fixed," he said as he shifted his weight nervously. "Did they use bionic parts?"

"Yeah, they're putting me back together," she whispered as she closed her eyes and groaned softly.

"Do you need something for the pain?"

Cameron could only nod her head so House went to the nurse's station to ask for the key to up the morphine drip. When he returned he allowed the medication to flow through the tube into her left arm and pulled the chair up beside the bed.

"There, that should make a big difference," he said then tried to force a smile, but his face expressed more pity and concern than pretending she didn't look worse shape than she actually was.

"Gee, thanks. Do I look _that_ bad, Greg?" she muttered as she tried to keep her eyes open.

_Greg_ … she used his first name. The past three years she had never used his first name. For that matter, he had never used her first name, either. That could only mean one thing – she was still mistaken over the relationship between them.

"No, of course not. Now shut up and go to sleep." He wasn't concerned with her getting the rest her body needed to recover from her wounds. He wanted her to fall asleep so he wouldn't have to tell her that they were _not _in a romantic relationship.

"I … don't … wanna …" Cameron didn't even finish her sentence before her voice trailed off and she was finally asleep.

House leaned forward and stroked her cheek softly. "Pull through this, Cameron."

Even though it was just before midnight, House needed to talk to get things off his chest. He didn't really want to talk to Wilson, but of the limited number of people he knew, Wilson had the most logical approach to any situation. Besides, Wilson was used to House getting in predicaments and should be able to help him out. But this one was different. He just had no idea what he was going to do.

House asked for the room number of James Wilson at the check-in counter at Residence Inn, the hotel where he'd been staying since he left Grace's place before she left for Greece. He then headed for the elevator, setting the six pack of Heinekin on the railing for the three-floor trip.

"House! It's 12:30! What are you doing here so late?" Wilson exclaimed when he saw House standing at the door holding the beer.

"It's St Patrick's Day," House answered then tried to walk through the threshold but Wilson didn't move out of his way. "Nice jammies. I thought you slept in Spiderman one-sies."

The strange thing was Wilson was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, by no means strange or girly, definitely not enough for a snide comment from House.

"St. Patrick's Day is over, House, so go home," Wilson said irritated.

"Why? You don't have church tomorrow … or is that Synagogue?" House asked as he finally pushed his way into the room.

He set the beer on the table, pulled out one of the chairs and sat down then propped his feet up on the second chair. He turned to see Wilson still standing at the door, looking at House as if he were projecting lasers at him right between his eyes.

"I really think you should turn on the lights in here 'cuz it's kinda dark and I might just be tempted to grab your ass in the dark …" House started to say but Wilson ignored him then walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

"Guess I'll just have to do it myself," he said out loud as he reached for the lamp over the table and turned it on.

He grabbed a beer, popped the cap then grabbed another, doing the same. House heard the toilet flush and held out the beer for Wilson so when he came out it would be all ready for him.

"Sorry it's not green. But you're not Irish anyway so it really doesn't make a difference, does it?" House said as Wilson walked out, took the beer completely unappreciatively and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Okay, so tell me why you're here," Wilson said as he took a sip then set the bottle on the night stand.

"You said the other day she did read the letter. What else did she say?"

"Actually, she only _saw _the letter. She just saw, '_To_ _Cameron – please when you come to your senses_.'"

"What do you mean? She didn't read it, then?"

Wilson shook his head. "She found the letter in the drawer, yes, but hadn't opened it. When I went to see her after her leg surgery I saw it under the blanket, under her hand and took it."

"Why in the hell didn't you tell me that when we talked on the phone? Well, let me have it."

"Uh, I don't have it anymore."

"It's at your office?"

"Not exactly," Wilson answered, definitely avoiding telling House where it was.

"Okay, where _exactly_ is it?" House asked as he threw the first empty bottle in the trash can and opened another one. House stared Wilson down as he took a long sip, narrowed his eyes and tried to look as threatening as he could; he was getting tired of Wilson skirting the issue.

"Well," Wilson whined. "Chase has it."

House was in the middle of another sip when he heard those words and almost choked.

"Oh, damnit."


	17. Chapter 17

_Okay, now you all get to find out what was in the letter!! YAH! But I know I'm going to get flack because I know it's not what everyone wanted to hear. But keep reading. I think (and hope, crossing fingers and toes) that what happens at the end of the chapter will make everyone happy (House certainly wont' be!)_

_And thanks for 'liking' Debra. I think I will bring her in after Cam dies – I mean is better. Hehehe _

_AllyCameron(not sure if right) – I couldn't reply to your email. I know where you are coming from. Is it turning around to your liking? I already knew where I was taking it, but you have to be patient with me. I'll get there!!!!! Geez! lol _

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Chase sat on his couch staring at the letter from House to Cameron. It was well past 3 a.m., which had been the norm the past two days since he found the letter when he saw Wilson holding it. He insisted Wilson give it to him, even though he fought it tooth and nails, until he finally relented.

He held the tri-folded letter in his hand and seethed with anger, growing with each word he read. He'd read the letter almost ten times and it never got any easier to read. He noted that the handwriting was somewhat shaky and the direction of the letters seemed to change occasionally, as if he'd paused in writing to get his thoughts together.

Cameron,

This will come as a shock, considering you're delirious, but you and I are _not_ romantically involved.

You wished we were, and I wouldn't have minded ripping your lab coat off. But it's never happened, and it isn't _going_ to happen. We have a professional relationship, and it will remain that way.

If you can't handle that, then I suggest you take the position in Boston I signed that letter of recommendation for.

H

Chase crumpled up the letter with distaste, walked to the fireplace and threw it in. He watched with intense satisfaction the red flame igniting the paper and sending it up the flue in a ball of fire. House may or may not know he had the letter, but technically, it was no longer his anyway. And Cameron would never know House gave her a letter.

"I was right! I _knew _he would do something to hurt her."

Chase was livid, angrier at House than when he punched him in the face when House wouldn't listen to his diagnosis about the little girl with the problem with sensitivity to light. He snatched the phone, dialed a number and impatiently waited for the person to answer.

"Hello?"

From the mumbled voice on the other end of the line Chase knew he was still half asleep but he didn't care. He needed to talk, to get someone else's opinion – someone on the 'outside.'

"You awake?"

"No."

Chase was instantly faced with a dial tone.

"Foreman!"

Chase quickly dialed the number again, and when Foreman answered Chase cried out, "Cameron just died!"

"Huh? Wha…oh, my god!" Foreman bolted upright and gripped the phone tightly to his ear.

"No, just listen. I need your help with something."

"But you just said Cameron died!"

"I lied. But you are awake now, aren't you?"

"You're a jerk! What do you want? And make it quick!" Foreman warned as he rolled over on his side away from Wendy, the Peds nurse he broke up with a while ago. They'd been back together for three weeks now, but decided to try to keep it 'on the down-low.'

It took Chase just five minutes to relay the contents of the letter, the fight he'd had with House and the "non-serious convenient sex partners only" arrangement he had with her. Although Foreman tried his hardest not to be interested, by the time Chase got to the sex part, he couldn't help being intrigued. He was dying to know where Chase was going with it all.

"I really care about her, Foreman. But I'm not sure if she cares about me the same way. Apparently her thinking she's with House means she _does_ still care about him."

"That's not necessarily true," Foreman objected.

Chase remained quiet while he waited for more input from Foreman, but he was disgusted at hearing water running – no, Foreman was peeing.

"You could have at least waited until we got off the phone."

"Hey, you woke me up in the middle of the night. You also woke up my bladder. Get over it. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, really. But I mean, what would _you_ do?" Chase finally asked.

"Well," Foreman said as he sat on the couch in the living room. "Considering Cameron's current state of mind, you should back off and just pretend you two are still coworkers."

"But what am I going to do about House? How do I deal with him?"

"The same way you always have, Chase. Don't give him the satisfaction of knowing how angry you are. You know he'd eat you up alive."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of. But I don't know if I can deal seeing her with him."

"Look, I'm going to have to go in a second. But listen: it's best for Cameron right now if we play along with her delusion. It shouldn't last long…"

Suddenly a woman's voice in the background asked, "Is everything alright, Eric?"

"Hey, look, I've got to go. We'll talk more on Monday, okay? Promise. Hang in there."

"Will do. Thanks, Foreman."

Foreman didn't even bother saying goodbye. He hung up and gave all of his attention to Wendy.

Chase, on the other hand, was only somewhat comforted. But after a few minutes, he realized Foreman was right. He'd have to give her time. And Dr. Robert Chase was a very patient man.

First thing the following Monday at work, Cuddy called House personally and told him to meet her in his office right away. House finally sached into her office and sat down smugly on the couch.

"House! Where have you been? I called you two hours ago."

"Oh, you did? I just came in here to take a nap."

Cuddy didn't play along with his childish behavior. She stood and walked to the couch and sat down next to him.

"What I have to say isn't going to be easy for you, but it has to be done," she told him.

House's left eyebrow shot up at that, and the first thing out of his mouth before he considered what he was really saying was, "You've finally decided to let me father your child? Good choice. Wilson's would have been whining and in your face all the time and…"

"Shut up, House. This is about Cameron."

"What happened? I saw her just this morning when I first got in."

"No, no. She's fine. I'm releasing her on Wednesday, and _you_ have to take care of her until she's able to take care of herself when she's alone at home."

"YOU _ARE_ KIDDING ME, right?!" House yelled.


	18. Chapter 18

_If anyone has any ideas about 'future' events, let me know. Someone mentioned bringing Debra back, and I wasn't going to, but I think I might even bring back his father and add more drama. _

_Please let me know if I get off base again, but NOT if they're out of character. I just mean time continuity or erred in something I've said._

_Ok, this is a little boring, but the next chapter should be good. _

_Steph_

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

"No, House. I'm not kidding. Cameron is going to need someone with her for at least two weeks," Cuddy said as she and House sat on her couch in her office.

"No way. I'm not going to do it," he told her defiantly.

She knew it was going to be a hard sale, but she already had a backup plan; two, actually.

"House, you have Cameron at your place for two weeks and I'll take off two weeks of your clinic duty. Besides, she'll need 24-7 care and I think that's a fair deal."

House looked at her thinking over her offer.

"A month."

"No," Cuddy answered.

"Three weeks."

"No," Cuddy said again firmly.

"That is just _so_ unfair!" House exclaimed as he stood up and put his hands on his hips.

"One week," she changed the offer.

"You first offered two weeks," he pouted.

"House, the truth is with her emotional state that if she were to be forced to believe what she believes to be reality too suddenly, it could jeopardize her recovery. She has to allow her memory to come back gradually, not overload her with it all at once." She hesitated before she continued.

"Two weeks, and if you challenge me again it will be _zero_ weeks."

House sighed heavily and walked out of her office. He hated to negotiate with Cuddy because most of the time he'd always back down or get less of a deal than he really wanted. He hadn't seen Cameron since he first arrived back from Michigan so he decided to pop in to see her.

As he was walking down the hall on her floor, it suddenly hit him that he was hungry. He went to the cafeteria and ordered a dry Reuben for himself and a chicken salad sandwich for Cameron. He proudly waked back to her room and put Cameron's sandwich on the tray. He sat down in the chair next to her bed and started in on his sandwich; he was really getting tired of Reuben sandwiches and kept staring at the chicken salad sandwich.

_Ah, why change a good thing,_ House thought to himself. She looked better and better every time he saw her and he was relieved. He just didn't know how to deal with Cameron, especially if he had to spend so much time with her. At the moment he wished he was doing clinic duty rather than having to deal with her.

"Greg, if you want my sandwich you can have it," Cameron said, bolting House out of his thoughts.

House put his sandwich on the tray and stood at her bedside.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm good. I am _so _ready to go home. Thanks for the sandwich," she said as she reached for it and took a bite.

House saw how awkward it was for her to eat at the angle her head was set so he pressed the button to elevate her torso.

"Thanks. Cuddy said I can go home Wednesday," she said then her face contorted as if she were in pain.

"You need something?"

"No, I'm okay. I'm tired of sleeping. I've been talking with Brenda; she recommended an in-home nurse to take care of me at home."

House inwardly jumped for joy. He'd still have two weeks off clinic duty and Cuddy would never know.

"Greg, Cuddy already knows I turned her down so don't get any ideas in your head."

House's spirit suddenly died.

"I'm looking forward to spending time together. It seems like we haven't done anything in such a long time."

_That's because we _haven't_ done anything together._

Two days later, House is at Cameron's bedside packing her bag of clothes she'd been wearing the week before, when Chase, Foreman and Cuddy came into the room. Cuddy held a bouquet of flowers with a 'get well soon' balloon attached and handed it to Cameron. She smiled and thanked them. Foreman helped her into the wheelchair and led her out of the hospital with the others in tow.

"Now, Cameron, you take it easy. You have the next six weeks off and we'll miss you. But we'll come to visit," Cuddy said as House left the group to get his car.

He wasn't ready for this: he couldn't even handle his best friend stay with him more than one night and here he had Cameron stay with him for two weeks. He made a mental note of keeping a list of delivery food restaurants by the phone so at least he could feed her. He had no idea how he was going to help her with everyday tasks.

He'd have to do something so beyond his character that he felt sick to his stomach, but he had no choice. Something reminded him of what his cousin, Debra, told him: _'…she may just be 'the one' for you…'_

She was also right in the fact that he had pushed those he cared about away, even his best friend. Was this a test for House? Could he be selfless and give her the attention and care she needed while she recouped, and until she gained her memory back?

He would have to try. He'd hate it, but he would try.


	19. Chapter 19Day 1

_Okay, I had to finish Day 1 of Cameron's recuperation. I got a little hot and heavy (kinda) toward the end so when I proofread it I may have missed some stuff. Lol _

_Thanks for the suggestions and reviews. Hope you like. Steph_

**CHAPTER NINETEEN – Day 1**

House was quiet the whole time he drove Cameron back to his apartment, which was fine with him. He knew she was tired because he'd been just as exhausted when he was taken home after he was shot and after his infarction.

He was just as tired from errands the day before. He had a lot to do: shop for food (which was really a lot of frozen dinners), went to her apartment and got a few of her clothes and everyday essentials, his Vicodin refilled and two bottles of scotch, since he'd finished his last one off just the week before.

House pulled up in front of his apartment building and took a deep sigh before he opened his door; Cameron sat still and waited for him to come around and help her out. It was difficult for her to get out because her right leg was in a cast and she was still very sore from her spleen being removed. But considering the impact of the bus she took, she was very, very lucky.

"Hang on, Cameron. I need to take your bag and open the front door, okay? I'll be right back."

He took her plastic bag with the clothes she'd warn the night of the accident, went inside, set the bag on his bed and popped two vicodin before he headed back outside. He looked at his cane and debated whether it would be a hindrance or helpful getting her inside. He went to his liquor cabinet, took a long gulp and went back outside, sans the cane.

When he walked to her door, he saw her head was back on the head rest and her eyes were closed. Something tugged at his heart and for a split second he _felt_ something. It was a 'good' something.

He opened the door and stuck his head in, placed his hand on hers and quietly said her name. His own voice surprised him: it was soft, gentle, empathetic, _so_ unlike him. He called her name again and shook her softly from the shoulder until she woke up.

"Cam, time to get you inside but I'm going to need as much help from you as you can muster. Let me know if it gets too painful. I'll give you something for the pain when we get you settled inside."

He hesitated a moment before he put his right hand on her hip and supported her right leg with his left hand. "Okay, you need to swivel around and get your feet out first. It'll be much easier to stand."

She only nodded her head and did as he said, moaning and grunting as she did so.

"You're doing really well. We're almost …"

Suddenly he himself yelped in pain because he put too much pressure on his own right leg. He told her to give him a second. She looked up at him and smiled, knowing how hard it was on him to put so much weight on it.

Ten minutes later, they walked through the door of his apartment.

"Ca…can I get some water before I lie down?" she asked.

House didn't answer but continued to lead her to the couch.

"No, no. I won't rest well on the … couch. What's wrong with the bed? Actually, forget the water. I need to lie down now."

The look in her eyes pleaded with him to allow her to do so, and it tugged at his heart, _again_. He made a mental note to stop letting his heart get in the way. As soon as she was in bed and asleep, he'd have a couple drinks. That would surely take care of that nonsense.

"Fine. I'll sleep on the couch, not a problem," he told her and he got a more secure hold of her waist with his right arm. He'd hoped it would balance him out and allow him not to tumble as he walked her to the bedroom and stopped beside the bed.

A thought crossed his mind: the last woman he'd had in his bed was Stacy, and it was an awkward feeling to have someone else in it. But he couldn't object. Not now. Not with Cameron.

"Hold on, hold on," he said nervously. "You'll be alright for a sec, Cameron?"

Cameron nodded her head. He could tell it was difficult for her to stand on her own so he hurriedly pulled down the blanket low enough so she could sit on the bed and be able to maneuver herself to lie down. He walked back to her right before she lost her remaining strength and collapsed into his arms, her head down and against his shoulder but she hadn't passed out.

House groaned at the sudden extra weight but he gently set her on the bed.

"It's cold in here. Can you get me…my sweats and a t-shirt? They're in the top drawer," she said.

House's heart skipped a beat; he knew her clothes were not in his drawer. When he brought clothes from her apartment he only grabbed jeans, t-shirts, underwear and a pink, lace bra, of which he was particularly fond of, and they were still in the duffle bag on the floor. He hadn't even thought to grab some night clothes. He sniggered to himself when he wondered if that was a subconscious thought: having her sleep in the nude.

After he pushed that ludicrous idea out of his head, and not wanting to say anything that might upset her he told her, "Actually, they're in the washer. I didn't have time to dry them before I left for the hospital this morning."

House lied to her. He never had a problem lying, and was always good at it. Cameron bought it.

"I think my sweats should fit you," he told her, knowing they really wouldn't but they would have to do.

Regardless, he pulled the smallest pair of sweats out of his drawer with his red "South of the Border" t-shirt. He handed them to her and she just looked up at him. She reached behind her to untie the hospital gown but groaned in pain.

"I … I can't do this … can you help me?"

"Cameron, that's not a good idea … ok, wait. Let me get you water and a pain pill. Believe me, you'll need it," he said as he walked out of the room.

Cameron's head was spinning and her head hurt tremendously, not to mention her stomach and leg. Her head felt heavier and her body weaker by the moment. She let herself fall back onto the bed, closed her eyes and breathed heavily, feeling as if she'd pass out.

House walked into the living room, grabbed the bottle of scotch and went to the kitchen. He poured a glass of water for Cameron and a glass of scotch for himself. The liquor did little to quench his nervousness at having to undress her. He grabbed her bottle of Dilaudid and went back into the bedroom. He took a deep breath, so deep he thought he'd swallowed his tongue.

He saw, for the first time since the hospital's poker charity night, just how beautiful she really was. Her hair was in dire need of a good combing through; her face could use a wash and a nice long, hot bath which would take the week's worth of hospital crud off her delicate skin. But she was still gorgeous.

"Greg … where are you?" she whispered but didn't open her eyes.

"I'm … here," he said as he walked to the bed and sat down beside her. "Sit up and take these. Then we'll get you changed."

Cameron sat up slowly and with help from House. She let her body lean against his and he didn't push her away. He dropped two Dilaudid into his palm and handed them to her, followed with the glass of water. She took the pills and emptied the glass then handed it back to him.

"I'm too tired to sleep," she said as she sat up. "I need to get out of this stupid gown."

_Oh, here it comes. Breathe, House, _breathe

House stood up and faced Cameron. He leaned in close to her, so close his chest was almost touching hers. He reached behind her and untied the gown, pulling the strings apart, exposing her back, and pulled the material over her shoulders. He looked beside her where the t-shirt was and closed his eyes. He brought the material down her sides and let it rest on the bed behind her.

Blindly, he reached for the shirt and gently pulled it over her head. He couldn't resist: he did open his left eye to watch as it slid over her breasts. Though her eyes were closed, she smiled. He knelt on his left knee and slid the sweats over her ankles, knees and hips.

"Cameron, are you sure you want to wear the sweats? With your cast and having to go to the bathroom you might not want to have them on."

She agreed and finally lied down on her side. He grabbed a pillow and lifted her leg onto it then covered her up.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked, her eyes looking up at him lovingly.

"Uh, no. I've got to … stuff to do. I'll be in shortly."

"Greg, why have you been calling me Cameron? A little formal now, don't you think?" she asked, her eyes growing heavy and she closed them.

He didn't answer her at first. "Habit, I guess."

House watched her for a minute or so, until her breathing became steady and he knew she was asleep. He wanted to hold her, tightly, so she wouldn't feel any pain. But the thought tortured him.

What he felt that time was fear – fear that something might happen between them, and it scared the hell out of him.


	20. Chapter 20xDay 2

_AllyCameron-ignore my little blurb on chapter 17; that was meant for someone else cuz I couldn't remember the name and yours was the only one I did remember cuz it's the first one._

_No worries: there won't be a chapter for each day of Cam's 2 week recovery; I did that mainly for my purposes so I know what day it was in the story. _

_And I made a couple of boo-boos!!! The letter House left Cam---it was PENN, not Boston she was going to transfer to to as I put in the story!!! Please disregard that and pretend I put Penn. And also, waay back I put Veronica from Willy Wonka—it's VERUKA SALT!! Ok, I love that movie but I couldn't even get that right._

_Okay, once Cameron is all better and married to House (or WILL she be? Hehe) I'm definitely bringing back more medical patients from clinic duty of Houses. (Should I or not??? YES OR NO? That would just drag the story out more but I don't want to lose readers by doing that once House and Cam are married (or WILL they be?));_

_I'm bringing Debra back but she will NOT be healthy;_

_Should I kill House's dad????? (YES OR NO???)_

_Any other ideas? Throw them at me and I might incorporate them in here. _

_Steph_

CHAPTER TWENTY-Day 2

The glow in the living room is from several lit candles with the calming effects of lavender filling the room. There is a cozy, romantic fire burning in the fireplace. House is sitting at the piano playing a soft melody while Cameron stands behind him and watches his long, nimble, graceful fingers glide over the black and white keys, smiling happily. He is smiling, too, and is completely relaxed and happy.

There's no cane; there's no cast on a leg – they are both completely healthy.

"Cameron, am I good enough for you?" House asks without breaking his concentration in the tune.

She looks at him confused. "Of course you make me happy, Greg," she answers.

"That's not what I asked," he says and abruptly stops playing the piano, but doesn't turn to look at her.

"I asked you if you thought I was good enough for you."

She presses her chest against his back and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him on his cheek. "Yes, babe, you are perfect for me."

House looks up at Cameron and smiles, warmly and genuinely. He grabs her by her waist, turns on the piano stool, holds her securely and stands up; with his left arm swoops her up and holds her body close to his. He kisses her warmly and passionately, holding her tightly so she doesn't fall from his arms. She moans softly as his lips press against her own and she revels in the sensations her body is allowing her to feel.

He starts to walk towards the bedroom, and just as he walks through the door she says, "I have to use the bathroom. I need your help, though."

House doesn't hear Cameron. He continues to walk to the bed and softly lays her down, admiring her firm breasts and flat, blouse-covered stomach.

"Take your shirt off, or do I have to do it for you?" he tells her.

She smiles at him slyly and starts to unbutton her blouse from the bottom hem.

"Greg, please, I have to use the bathroom," she says again.

This time House does hear Cameron, but her mouth isn't moving. He frowns in confusion and tilts his head, trying to figure out how he could hear her without her lips moving.

"BATHROOM, NOW!" she screamed.

House shook roughly from his spot in the bed, his head bolted up off the pillow but his body stayed on the bed and his eyes flew open.

"…hmmph…no, no bathroom. I said take off your…" He cut himself off when he noticed Cameron sitting up in the same bed, looking down at him, just as confused as he was, with the last expression from his dream now freshly planted on his face.

"Maybe I'll take my shirt off later but for now I need to go to the _bathroom_!" she told him.

"Uh, hmmph, yeah, okay," he said.

A second later he sat up and put his feet on the floor. He stood up, like any non-cripple would have, and collapsed back on the bed in pain so severe he thought he was going to vomit. He rubbed his right thigh with the edge of his palm as hard as he could to get the pain to stop. Curse words flew out of his mouth even a sailor would have been mortified to hear.

Then it suddenly hit him. He was no longer the pain-free, relaxed, loved but slightly insecure person he had been in his dream. He was back in reality, a horrific reality. He wanted the life he had in the dream. Or did he?

"Greg, I don't need to go to the bathroom anymore," she told him, somewhat shy.

He looked at her as his dream replayed in fast-forward in his head, but from where he stood it all still felt like a dream to him. He followed the outline of her body down to her right leg, and in fact, it was in a cast.

"Okay, good, cuz I wasn't gonna take you. Now go back to sleep," he told her as he stood up again, slowly, walked to his cane, grabbed it and stood by the bed looking at her.

She rolled over slightly, put her head in her right hand and watched him for a second.

"Wow, that's the first time you've actually snapped at me. I was wondering how long you'd hold out. But I don't need to go now because I kinda did in the bed," she said, slightly embarrassed. "What time is it?" she asked as she looked outside the bedroom window and noticed the sun had come out.

_Time for you to go to your own place._

House looked at the clock radio on his nightstand and told her 8:15.

"Do you think you can give me five minutes so I can make coffee and then we'll get you cleaned up," he said as he walked out the door, not even giving her the opportunity to answer.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Right after they'd eaten lunch, House and Cameron sat on the couch in front of the t.v. watching Judge Joe Brown.

"He's gonna give his verdict to the plaintiff. He _so_ should have paid the bill on the storage unit, even if she wouldn't sleep with him," she scoffed at the t.v.

"And he had every right not to pay it because she wouldn't sleep with him!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, my god! You _would _say that!" she said with a snigger. "If you ever become a judge I'm leaving the county!"

"Hey, I'd be a good judge. I'd give gorgeous plaintiffs the claim and get the even gorgeous-_er_ defendants off. Besides, you're too goody-two shoes anyways. You've never been in court."

"You'll get defendants off just because they're hot?" Cameron asked, making the quotes sign in the air with the word 'off.' "That'd figure. But wouldn't that be against your Oath of … wait, what? No, of course I haven't been to court!" she said a little bit too defensively.

House looked at her suspiciously. He didn't buy it. He had to dig deeper.

"That was a statement, not a question. Or was I mistaken?"

"You were mistaken," she told him just as the door bell rang. "Ah! Saved by the bell!"

"This conversation isn't over, Cameron," he said as he went to the door.

"What conversation?" Cameron asked playfully.

House opened the door and mumbled under his breath.

"Cameron is sleeping. You can't come in," he told them.

"Oh, Greg, stop it. Come on in, guys," she said over the back of the couch.

Foreman, Chase and Wilson walked in. Wilson, who was holding flowers, came around the front of the couch.

Before he could hand them to her House said, "Oh, you shouldn't have gotten me flowers, Wilson! What will our coworkers think?"

"Thanks, Wilson. They're beautiful," she told them as they sat down.

"How are you feeling, Cameron?" Chase asked.

"Great. Just a little bit of pain but it goes away after a while."

"Is that when he goes to get groceries?" Foreman asked with a smirk.

"Oh, that's hysterical!" House said sarcastically then stuck his tongue out at him.

"Actually, we came by to give you this walker so you can run away from House if he gets fresh," Wilson said teasingly.

"I wouldn't mind it if he did," she said softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear her.

"Yeah, I'm good like that."

By the time the gang left about an hour later, Cameron was drained and starting to hurt pretty badly. She tried out the walker and made it to the bedroom easily. She crawled into bed, put her foot on a pillow and lied down.

"Do you need a pain killer?"

"No, but I know what I do want that would take care of the pain," she said teasingly then winked at him.

"Hot bath? I just gave you one this morning."

"No, you walked me to the toilet, helped me sit down on the lid, started the water and ran out like you'd melt from the steam."

"No, I didn't. It's just that when I hear running water I have to pee. I'll be right back," he said as he left.

When he came back a moment later, her eyes were closed and he thought she was asleep until she said, "Why are you so cold to me?"

He sat on the bed, handed her the pill and cup of water. She took it and handed it back to him.

"Do I smell or something?" she asked.

"No. It's just … I'm not … look, can we talk about this later?"

"Fine. I wouldn't expect anything less from you," she said angrily.

She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.

He stood up and stood staring at her. What the hell was he going to say to her?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay, I think the next chapter is going to be fun! House has a whole almost 24 hours to think of what he's going to tell her.

Please let me know where you want the story to go? I'm glad everyone likes it and I like writing this – as long as you all do. :o)


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – Day 2 cont'd**

The t.v. played something that House wasn't even watching, even though it was an archeological dig in Egypt and he normally would be interested in it. He sat on the couch leaning on the arm rest with his left elbow, his left leg bent underneath his straightened right leg. His thumb was massaging his bottom lip as his thoughts wandered.

House knew revealing the truth now was way too soon for her, as she had to 'come back' on her own accord. He knew she wanted more from him than he could give; and to play into her fantasy by doing just that was something House could not do. But maybe if it were for only a few days or weeks, then maybe he could play along. He would simply keep his distance. Yeah, that he could do.

House looked at his watch and saw that it was almost 7:00 p.m. and Cameron would want dinner soon. He went into the bedroom and saw she was awake.

"Hey," he simply said.

"Hey."

"You hungry?"

"Nah, not really. My leg is killing me, though. Can I have another pill?"

House didn't say a word but turned and walked out to the living room, got her a pill and returned.

"Thanks." She took the pill from him and swallowed it dry. "Hmm, taking it dry wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be."

"Uh, yeah," House mumbled.

"I hate taking them. I've never had anything major to warrant pain pills."

"Let me know when you're hungry," House said disinterested then turned to walk out.

"Greg, stay, please," she pleaded.

He turned around and looked at her. He could see the pain in her face, in her eyes. That peculiar feeling in his stomach came back…was it…no, it couldn't be…sympathy? He took a deep breath, walked to the bed and stood there.

"You want something to read? I don't have any Cosmo's but I got a couple of Playboys."

She smiled. "No, you don't. I threw them away."

"You…what?" he asked, a pang of worry went through his body to his toes.

"I'm just kidding," she said. "But sadly I know you're _not_ kidding about the Playboys."

He smiled at her then adjusted his weight on the cane. She turned on her side, moaning and groaning the whole time. She finally got comfortable and looked at him lovingly.

"Greg, there is something about me you don't know. You mentioned me being in court. Yeah, I was in court once. The records are sealed now but I…" she said softly.

House's eyebrows rose with curiosity, and he wanted to know, but not now.

"Cam, we don't have to do this now. We'll talk about it later," he told her.

"No, I'm tired of sleeping. I want to. I _need _to. First, I need to go to the bathroom."

He walked to the other side of the bed while she stood and reached for the walker, which was still out of reach.

"No, no. I'll get that."

He placed the walker beside her and watched her as she stood, stepped out of her way and watched her walk to the bathroom, looking for any sign that she'd need help. Or that's just what he was telling himself; he was actually watching her butt. She closed the bathroom door and House was silently pleased that she was able to make it on her own. When she was done she came back and sat on the bed, readjusted the pillows and sat up, half covering herself.

"I can order a pizza, I'm getting hungry," House said, still standing beside the bed.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm sure I'll be hungry by the time it comes," she agreed.

Cameron rested her head against the pillow and waited for House to call for the pizza and his return. She didn't know how she was going to tell him, but she felt it was time. And she wanted to know exactly what happened that put her in the hospital; they never explained to her what did happen. She figured if she told a bit of herself to House, he'd tell her the truth about her accident.

"Okay, I ordered a large pepperoni with pineapple and anchovies," House teased as he sat down on the bed beside her, not too close, of course.

Cameron took a deep breath and started to explain her hidden truth that she'd kept from her coworkers and her boss from the day he hired her.

"You know I was married to Rick, but I never told you how we met. It was my first year in medical school and I met him at a Starbucks, of all places. We had seen each other on campus – he was a teacher's assistant – but never spoke. I turned around and he was suddenly there. I ended up spilling my drink on him.

"We talked for two hours that night. It was really nice and he was so easy to talk to. We exchanged phone numbers but neither one of us called the other. I knew I wouldn't have time to date and give him the time he deserved, so that's why I didn't call him. We only passed a few times on campus after that but never spoke more than a chat about the weather.

"Anyway, I was having a tough time with all the classes I was taking, basically because I took too many classes at once. So one night I went out with some friends, and one in particular always got into trouble –we grew up at the same high school – and I knew I should have ended being friends with her but I just didn't. It was a shady club hidden in a side alley and I tried to wiggle my way out of it but they wouldn't have it.

"It was going okay at first and we were having fun but…things went downhill."

House showed interest in what Cameron was saying and he hung on her every word. He'd always been curious about her husband, and God only knew why he never just straight up asked her about it. But he was about to find out.

"She slipped something in my drink. I didn't realize how out of control I was until I started a fight with another girl and the cops came and …"

Just then the doorbell rang.

"Ah, damnit. Pizza's here. Hold that thought and I'll be right back with food. Or, do you want to eat in the living room?"

"I need to stretch a bit. Let's eat in the living room."

Several minutes later House and Cameron were sitting on the couch and devouring the pizza.

"Wow, I was hungrier than I thought. This is good," she said.

"It's DiGorno," he said with a laugh. "Okay, continue, please," he begged.


	22. Chapter 22xDay 2 cont'd

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO – Day 2, cont'd**

"Okay," Cameron started, talking between bites of pizza. "I picked a fight with this girl that nudged me, innocent enough, right? The ecstasy my "friend" put in my drink made me go ballistic. The last thing I remember I was on the floor beating the crap out of this girl, but she in turn gave me a huge gash over my eyebrow.

"My _friend_ never admitted she put it in my drink so I was sent to the hospital for stitches and then sent to jail overnight. In court the next day I was sentenced to thirty days in rehab, which of course I didn't need. I only did three days in rehab because my friend confided to Rick what she did. He came and got me out.

"But I still had to do 200 hours of community service on top of trying to catch up on my classes I'd missed, but Rick was there almost every day to help tutor me. That's why I was only second in my class. If that hadn't happened, I would have been first."

Cameron set her empty plate on the coffee table, leaned back and threw her head on the pillow, sighing.

"Okay, so…Rick gets you out and to pay him back you sleep with him then marry him. Wow, let me know whenever _you _need to get out of a jam again!" House said with a laugh.

Something occurred to him: he kept flirting with her.

_Stop it, House, just stop it._

"Very funny," she said quite seriously. "That's not how it happened and you know it."

House got serious for a moment and reflected over the story Cameron just finished telling him. He, too, put his plate on the table and sat back on the couch, facing her. He wasn't too shocked and instead thought it was trivial.

"That's not a big deal. It's not like you took it by choice like you did that acid," he said, very sarcastically.

"Yeah, and you know _why_ I did it."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to fire you. But you did answer a few questions I had. Thanks."

_I just thanked her? Oh, my god. What is she doing to me?_

"Okay, now you," she told him.

"Now me, what?" he asked, knowing full well what she meant.

"I want to know what happened before…how I got hurt. The last thing I remember I was kissing you in your office," she said with a sly smile.

_Oh, yeah. The infamous kiss._ _Okay, this'll be easy. You can do this._

"You and I were at dinner and I was walking you to your car – I had the bike, remember that? It _was_ the same night we kissed in my office," House said.

As he spoke, he tried not to make his voice shake or say it an octave higher than his normal voice. But when he said, '…we kissed…' it didn't sound right. Those words that came out of his mouth shocked him to the core. He'd never said it out loud to anyone, and he figured if he didn't say anything about it then it never actually happened.

_But, man! What a kiss! Her lips were so soft and her body pressed against mine and she felt soooo good– GAWD! Wait! Get a grip, House!_

Cameron's eyebrows furled and she tried to concentrate hard, trying to remember. She shook her head.

"Just as we reached the curb a delivery truck barreled in front of us, going over on the curb. You were two steps ahead of me, because you always take short, fast steps because my legs are longer than yours and we were holding hands and…when the truck hit you it threw you back several feet and I couldn't hold onto you…you flew out of my hand and landed against the building wall and collapsed."

House finished the sentence it seemed like, in one long, uninterrupted breath. He looked into her eyes, trying to read what she was thinking, or feeling.

"You don't remember any of that?" he asked.

"I vaguely remember the dinner, but…" Cameron stopped herself by first stretching then yawning. "…nothing else after the kiss, I guess."

She rolled over on her back, settled her bad ankle/leg on the arm rest and put her head down on House's right thigh very, very gently.

"Is that okay?" she asked. "Am I hurting you?"

"Uh, no," he answered awkwardly.

House was so unprepared he put his hands up in the air as if he were being robbed while she positioned herself in a more comfortable position. He put his left elbow on his end of the arm rest and, well, couldn't find a place for his right arm.

But Cameron did. She silently reached up, grabbed his arm and brought it around her waist, putting her own hand on the back of his, brought it up to her chest like she was holding a teddy bear and held it close to her.

Instantly he felt her heartbeat against his curled fingers.

_No no no! What am I supposed to do now? No! She's…touching…me…_

Then, just as sudden as the anxiety came, it went. It was comfortable to him – holding her, like an old pair of blue jeans you've had since high school. He looked down at her and saw her eyes were closed, but that a few strands of hair draped a little over her eye.

_Muuuust leeeeeeeave her hair aloooone!_

The next thing he heard was Cameron snoring. He knew he was trapped now. There was no escape. He just didn't have the heart to wake her.

_Damn, two days here and I can't find the balls to wake her up?? She's changing me already…muuuust leeeeave hair alooonnnne_

And what did House do when he had a sleeping Cameron in his lap and snoring louder than Steve's wheel churning in high gear in the far corner of the room?

He gently pulled the hair from her eye with his middle and third finger until it rested on her forehead. Then he reached for another strand of hair and ran his fingers through it ever so gently. He rubbed her hair between his fingers and remarked to himself how soft it was.

"What am I going to do with you?" House asked to no one awake. Well, there was Steve, and he knew his daddy wasn't talking to him so he stopped churning and took a huge bite of his cheese ball.

A smile slowly etched across House's lips. Without moving his leg, he slowly pushed his shoulders into the back of the couch to get comfortable and rested his head in his left hand. He didn't close his eyes at first. He just kept staring at her.

_She is beautiful, isn't she? God, this isn't as easy as I thought. _

_Cuddy. Cuddy can watch Cameron from now on. Yeah, that'll get me out of it. That'll keep me away from Cameron._

_But I don't want her away from me…I just don't want to be feeling like this about her._

_Life sucks._

House finally stopped talking to himself and closed his eyes. Within minutes he, too, was asleep.

It would be the next morning when he awoke that he would come to terms with what he was feeling about her.

And he would be in for the shock of his life.


	23. Chapter 23

**_FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! MANY THANKS GOES TO CAUSTIC CHICK for instructions on posting since FanFic has been funky this whole week. _**

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**_ I'm taking this fic 'outside the box' a little bit. But it won't be out of character (I hope) but just really, really dramatic, and I hope somewhat realistic._**

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**_NOTE: If you are confused with a particular chapter, it will be explained further. Just have patience and keep reading._**

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**_Ok, enjoy_**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE **

The man lurked behind the building across the street from Baker Street watching the entrance to 221. It was 7:30 a.m. on a Friday and he'd driven the entire night from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, stopping only for gas or to pee. He _knew_ she was there.

Her parents confirmed her whereabouts when he visited them. He'd never met her parents or talked to them on the phone so it was a piece of cake to get the information. He said he was an old friend from high school, and lied, saying he'd flown in from California to see her. They gave him the information within five minutes. _Easy prey _he thought.

He didn't want to let them off so easily, though. He didn't want any witnesses to identify him so the authorities could track him down. But the woman reminded him of his own mother and decided against it. Besides, he didn't want her parents, he wanted _her_.

He was on his way to Princeton, New Jersey. For _her_.

_Inside_ 221 Baker Street, apartment B, House was just waking up from a restful night's sleep. His mind woke up much faster than his body did. The warmth he gradually felt in his arms was unfamiliar and strange, yet comfortable. He was soon aware that his right arm was around a body, his left arm under his head, his right leg was over another, a leg over his, and hair tickled his bearded chin.

He opened one eye, and when he saw brown hair, opened the other. He was holding Cameron, on the couch, in his living room. He remembered falling asleep the night before, when her head was on his right thigh. But how in the hell did they end up in the 'spooning' position?

He lifted his head and moved his right arm slowly as to not waken her, thinking he could sneak out from behind her. No such luck. She stirred in her sleep and woke up. She yawned then slowly turned her head to look into his face.

"Good morning, babe," she whispered then smiled.

"Uh, howdy," he answered nervously.

"Oh, that is _so_ romantic," she teased.

Their bodies slowly untangled and Cameron sat up, stretching her body as she did so. House did the same and they sat together, extremely close to one another. He was speechless. He didn't quite know what to say, which was very unusual for him. His snarkiness was a defense mechanism when he felt backed into a corner, as he was now.

_But this wasn't such a bad corner to be in_ he thought.

"How, um, I don't remember…"

She looked at him confused then it dawned on her what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah. Well, I had to pee in the middle of the night so I did. When I got back, you had stretched out on the sofa and I didn't want to get into a cold bed. I just, uh, slipped into you. You stirred but didn't wake up. I just wrapped around you like a favorite blanket."

"Oh, thanks. I've never been compared to a blanket before."

"Were you okay with it? Sometimes I can't tell if you've gotten used to me or not," she said with a laugh.

House didn't answer her but stood up quickly, rather _too_ quickly. Thoughts he'd had the night before played back in his head and he tried to dismiss them. He couldn't. He had to get away. Run away, like he always did.

"Cameron, I have to go to the office. You'll be okay here by yourself. I should be back by noon," he told her.

House ran to the bathroom, closed the door a little harder than he had to which resulted in a loud 'bang.' It made Cameron jump. She went into the bedroom and waited for him to finish his shower so they could talk. She needed to get some things straight with him. She felt as if things had taken a wrong turn and she didn't like it.

He finally got out of the shower but she had fallen asleep on the bed. When he saw her sleeping so peacefully he stopped in his tracks. His heart skipped a beat from how beautiful she looked.

_Must…fight…the…feeling…go to work._

His head won that argument - all he could do was cover her up; his heart had the last word, though – he reached out and ever so gently ran the back of his fingers over her soft, warm cheek. He walked away from her, grabbed his cane, but took one last look at her before he left the bedroom.

It was getting easier; she _was_ slowly winning him over. But she had falsely – though from no fault of her own – created a relationship with him, but _he_ hadn't with _her_.

_Life sucks _he thought as he stepped out on the sidewalk. He took a deep breath; the cool, early spring air revived him and he could actually think straight. But life _still _sucked.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Across the street, the man watched House descend the stairs and walk to his bike, get on it and ride off. He was now ready to do what he had to do. He walked out onto the sidewalk, crossed the street and approached the building…

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The cab pulled up in front of Princeton Plainsboro Hospital and put the car in park. The driver got out, got his passenger's one medium-sized suitcase and set it next to the back door, waiting for her to get out. She stepped out of the cab, grabbed her suitcase and started to walk away, noticeably hunched over. The cabbie screamed out to her that she hadn't paid the fare. She turned around and walked back to him. The cabbie noticed her complexion looked sallow, sweaty and flushed, as if she had a fever and her hair was damp over her forehead.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked as she got closer to him.

She shook her head, handed him the fare and walked back to the hospital entrance. Just as she walked through the door she stumbled and lost her balance. Cuddy was just coming out of her office and grabbed her by the arm before she fell.

"Are you alright?" Cuddy asked as she helped her up. "Do you need a doctor?"

"Yeah, House," the woman answered while trying not to let Cuddy see her face.

"He's here today, you're in luck. Do you need help with your luggage?" Cuddy asked as she bent down about to pick up her suitcase.

"No!" she snapped. "I just need to know where Greg House's office is, damnit!" she shouted, reached down and yanked the suitcase from Cuddy's hands.

Cuddy was taken aback by her over reaction but just told her the room number. The woman didn't thank Cuddy but walked to the elevator, took it up to the third floor.

Her head was spinning, she felt nauseous, she was freezing; her body shook from cold, even though she was wearing a thick turtleneck and light pink Irish wool sweater. And her stomach was killing her. She subconsciously rubbed her stomach and winced in pain.

She saw "Dr. Gregory House, Diagnostics" on the door of room 310. The lights were off and she didn't see him sitting behind his desk. Her hopes plummeted that he wasn't in his office and knew she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer to find him. She tried the door to see if it was locked and it was. She noticed the larger conference room to the left with the light on but there was no one at the table in the center of the room.

She saw the coffee pot in the corner and something warm sounded very appealing to her. She was briefly happy when she found the door unlocked. She walked in, set the luggage down and walked to the pot, grabbed a red coffee cup and poured a cup. She held it tightly in her hand as if it were a red-hot rock keeping her hands warm. She took a sip but it didn't curb the cold running through her veins as she'd hoped. She set the cup on the counter and grabbed her stomach, taking a slight breath.

"That'll cost you fifty cents," a gruff, familiar voice said.

She turned and saw House standing in the doorway between the two rooms and tried to smile, unsuccessfully.


	24. Chapter 24

**_Okay, here is the next chapter, which will answer A LOT of questions that you all had. _**

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**_I mentioned it was out of the box…and I was right…the stalking isn't thrilling everyone, but believe me, there is a reason for it. It wraps up the whole ending. Stay with me, ok? Lol ENJOY! Steph _**

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**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

"Bill me," she said, trying to force a smile. "Where were you hiding? You always work in the dark?" she asked, her voice not sounding right to her.

"Yep, get more work done that way," he said, noticing her speech was slightly slurred.

She started to walk toward him. Her steps were uneven and wobbly and her right arm covered her stomach. Her face was pained and she had to grab the chair for a brief moment to wait for the pain to subside.

"Are you okay?" he asked but didn't take a step to her.

"No, I…it's…yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she said unconvincingly. "I just have the flu or something."

Just as she said that she put her hand to her forehead then collapsed to the floor, landing on her stomach. He threw his head back and walked to her with little concern, thinking she was just drunk or high. He slowly knelt down beside her, grabbed her shoulder and turned her over gently.

"Debra, DEBRA!" House said loudly, hopefully looking for some kind of response from her but there was none.

House looked down at her sweater-covered arm that had been over her stomach and thought he saw the lower arm shaded a deeper red than the light pink it should have been. He then looked at her stomach area and saw a wider blood stain. He reached down and unzipped her sweater up to her belly, pulled it apart and gasped at the amount of blood on her turtleneck sweater. Calmly, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone.

"This is House. I need a gurney in my office NOW!"

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

Several hours later, around 3:00, Debra was finally in the recovery room after emergency surgery and she was still out from the anesthesia. She had an oxygen tube in her nostrils, I.V. in her arm but overall looked healthy.

Sitting beside her was Wilson, in a chair by the window and reading a Reader's Digest, with little interest. What interested him the most was why House had asked him to stay with this particular patient while he went back to his apartment to check up on Cameron while Debra had been in surgery.

It was a simple case, nothing mysterious, a case House would never have given a second thought to treat. Wilson had looked at her chart earlier but nothing stuck out that would have clued him in to who she was. The information on the registration form was completely bogus, though, which made Wilson conclude House had completed it. But why?

'Debra Laurie…SINGLE GUNSHOT WOUND…Bullet entered fleshy area three inches from hip in stomach area, non-life threatening; exited fleshy hip area; minor shrapnel found, no bullet…AGE: 41…RESIDENCE: West Hollywood…SPOUSE: Hugh Laurie, brilliant actor…6'3" and gorgeous---Laurie, not patient…MEDICAL INFORMATION: Greg House, Vicodinville, NJ…'

_Oh, God. Please don't tell me she's a hooker!_ Wilson thought as he shook his head and tried not to laugh. A moment later, a soft, throaty groan came from the bed and Wilson looked up to find Debra looking at him with her eyes half open.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" he asked as he stood up and walked to her side.

"Great," she mumbled. "What happened?"

"You were shot," House said from the foot of the bed he'd snuck up on. "It seems like we have more in common than just our _awesome_ blue eyes."

Wilson's eyes rose with interest at House's comment but he didn't say anything.

" Wilson, I'm back from checking on Cameron. Thanks, you're done," House said, but Wilson didn't seem to understand. "Uh, bye."

"Oh, uh, sure," Wilson answered and walked out.

"So, you were cleaning your gun and it went off?" House said skeptically.

She nodded her head but he didn't leave her alone.

"No, you wouldn't shoot cute, little Bambi so you wouldn't have a gun. Got drunk at a bar and get in a fight over a hottie? Tried to outrun the security guard at the airport? No? The cabbie shot you because you didn't pay the fare?"

She didn't answer him but turned her head away from him, her face contorting in pain. "I just got in the way of a bullet. No biggie."

He sniggered, turned to the I.V. box and clicked a few buttons. She slowly started to moan loudly in pain because he had turned down the morphine being administered through the I.V.

"Sorry, can't let you get high again until you tell me the truth." Debra didn't acknowledge his comment so he continued. "Debbie, you're not supposed to lie to family."

"You're not family. You're my doctor now. Cancels it out."

"Okay, fine. Are you gonna tell me who shot you, then?"

"Wasn't planning on it," she said softly as she turned to look at him again. "Please, are you gonna give me something for the pain?" she pleaded, heavy tears gradually running from the corner of her eyes.

"Wasn't planning on it. Do your parents even know you're here?"

"Yeah, just not that I was…"

Debra suddenly grabbed her stomach and bent her knees, hoping that would stop the pain but it didn't. This time her screams were louder and more forceful in begging for the pain killer.

"House?! What the hell are you doing?" Cuddy asked as she rushed into the room to the I.V. box and upped the morphine.

"Cuddy! I didn't get my answer," House whined.

"Thnnnx," Debra mumbled as her eyes slowly began to flutter and finally close, her breathing becoming steady and strong.

"Outside," Cuddy demanded.

"What? You're not the boss 'a me!"

"Yes, I am, eight hours a day. Now," she ordered as she left the room, with House eventually following her out into the hall.

" Wilson came to me and told me you and Debra are related somehow. I don't think you should be her physician."

"Why not? At least I won't kill her."

"House, take this seriously. She came in with a gunshot wound. I need to contact the police with violent…"

"I know, I know. I tried to find out but…"

"She's just as stubborn as you?" Cuddy joked.

"Yeah. Give me 24 hours?" House asked hopefully.

"For what?"

"For the truth of what happened to her."

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

About an hour later, House was back in Debra's room, trying his hardest to get her to tell him the truth.

"Greg, you can give me a mammogram and pinch the hell out of my breasts, give me a lumbar puncture – I hear they are painful – pull as many teeth as you want without giving me novacaine, but I will NOT tell you!" Debra said defiantly. "Does it matter who shot me? The bullet is out, I'm better..."

"Debra, you do realize that if you don't tell me who it was, I'm going to have to call the police. It's hospital policy with violent events."

"I don't care."

"What is your _problem_?! You go back home to the person who shot you and they finish the job? Great, let me know so I can ask for leave for your funeral."

"Don't worry about it. God, you are NOT my father. Lay off!"

"Hey! You came here; I did NOT come to you!" House shouted.

Debra looked out the window trying to control her anger she felt building up within her. "Release me and I'll go home…leave you alone."

House sighed, ran his fingers through his hair and walked out of the room.

**_Oh, and in case you are thinking, "yeah, right, Debra got shot and got no help after a day"…what I was thinking but didn't express/tell was that while there _was_ loss of blood, she toughed it out just to make it to House's because she felt that was the only place she felt safe; she _was _going into shock if that helps? lol My mom pointed that one out. Lol _**

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**_I thought of this chapter like, a week ago, and just wizzed through chapters 23-26. I lie in bed a pretend I'm Debra and get GREAT dialogue. Let's just say I'd never make it as an actress. lol _**


	25. Chapter 25

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

Tears fell down Debra's cheeks but they weren't tears of anger, but tears of sadness. She hadn't seen House for almost 30 years, prior to a couple of days ago, yet there was something she could relate to with him; that was their bond. She didn't want to hurt him, she really didn't. But she didn't want to get him involved with the mess she got herself into. She'd be risking his life if she stayed. But she couldn't go back. If she went back, she'd risk her life, possibly her parents' lives. She had no where to go, and no one that could help her…maybe that's why she came to her cousin for help.

Debra looked at the door when she heard it opening about ten minutes later. Her cousin walked in with a syringe in his hand.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Something to help you sleep," he said as he walked to her I.V. bag and inserted the needle into the tube.

"No, no, I don't want to sleep," she said as she slowly sat up, put her feet on the floor and tried to stand up. She suddenly became dizzy and sat back down on the bed. "Geez, why am I so dizzy?"

"Lie down, Debra. I gave you sodium thiopental. You're going to be flying high in a second."

"And what exactly is that?" she asked as she lied down. "Whoah, I think I like this," she said with a giggle.

"Uh, you ever heard of sodium pentathol? It's the truth serum." House stated guiltily.

"WHAT? You can't be serious! But, damn, it's good stuff," she said then burst out laughing.

House smiled at her then grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"Why do you have to know so much, Greg?"

"Because I'm nosy. Hey, I'm the one that's supposed to ask the questions."

"I won't tell you anything! You can't make me talk!" she said in a German accent then chuckled.

"Girl, remind me not to go drinking with you. Okay, who shot you and why?"

Debra closed her eyes and shook her head. "I ain't gonna tell you. You can't make me talk," she said playfully.

"Shut up! God, you're annoying," House said then actually laughed. "Okay, I'm gonna ask this again: who shot you and why?"

"No, Greg, I can't. Please, don't ask me," she pleaded, her voice becoming soft. "He'll hurt them."

House knew the drug was beginning to work and knew he'd get his answers soon. He asked her one more time.

She sighed heavily and seemed to calm down and wasn't so giddy. "My ex." She got quiet and didn't volunteer anymore information.

"When, and why, Debra?"

"The night before I picked you up at the airport."

"You've been walking around a whole week with a hole in your stomach?" he asked astonished.

"No, no, wait. Let me think…when he came by last week we had a big argument – he was drunk and accusing me of cheating on him, even though we'd broken up a year earlier. He lost it, completely lost it. I couldn't talk any sense into him. He threw me up against the wall. I was all shook up and had to catch a flight and …he finally left."

"Had he ever threatened you before?"

"Yeah," she said, her eyes slowly becoming heavy and she became relaxed but she was still with him. "That's why I was getting high. I couldn't handle it. It was getting bad."

House nodded his head in acknowledgement but didn't say anything; he just sat back and listened.

"It was two days ago, night, I think, after I came back home from Michigan. He came by again but that time he was on meth or something because he was really out of it. He swore he'd kill my parents if I didn't tell him who I was seeing; I wasn't seeing anyone!" she said, her voice becoming shaky and nervous but she soon got her composure.

"I didn't take him seriously until he pulled out the gun and waved it in my face. I froze. He moved away from me and I saw I could get by him and ran for the door. He caught me, though, and threw me on the couch. I begged him not to do anything stupid but he wouldn't listen. He just kept getting angrier. His eyes…they looked so wild. He aimed the gun at me and by reflex was to put my hands over my face.

"Like my arms would stop a bullet." She giggled a little then grew serious again. "Anyway, I heard the gun go off and smelled the gunpowder. But at first I didn't feel any pain. But then…I felt it, my stomach, it burned, almost like my blood was boiling and scalding my skin.

"He screamed at me and said it was my fault he shot me. The last thing I remember was a car horn going off in front of the apartment building; I live in a garden apartment," she told him, tears building up in her eyes. "He said he'd be back, and if I tried to hide he'd find me; he knows where my parents live. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I just got on a plane yesterday. I didn't know where else to go. I didn't want to go to my parents because that would endanger them…I just had to find some place he didn't know where I was…but, he knows."

Debra started to cry from the anxiety over what had happened to her. House reached out and touched her arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort her.

"I don't know what to do…"

"Debra, don't worry. There's no way he knows where you are."

"No, he does, Greg. You don't get it!" she said alarmed.

"Why? What are you talking about?"

"I remembered on the flight here…he took my address book." She closed her eyes and seemed to doze off for a second but looked at him again. "Your address is written on a loose piece of paper in front of the book. He'll think it's you I'm seeing."

"That's stupid!"

"Yeah, well," she said then yawned. "He's not too bright."

She finally drifted off to sleep. He sat there and watched her for a few minutes.

He wasn't concerned for himself if the ex _did _come after him; he was more concerned about Cameron. He wasn't used to feeling the way he was. He'd never felt it before and it scared him. He didn't really know what it was to begin with. He'd felt it once before, but not as strong as this; a picture of Stacy crossed his mind.

_Oh, my God. I…_am_ falling for her._

Besides, he'd checked in on Cameron hours earlier, when Wilson was with Debra. Nothing was out of the ordinary. She was acting perfectly … well, he did notice she seemed a bit nervous, but thought maybe she was in pain.

_Oh, my God…what if he was there?!_


	26. Chapter 26

**_I don't know what made me think of the sodium pentathol House used on Debra, but I thought that was sooo him. lol It was like he knows how stubborn she is because she's a "House" meaning last name , and he'd never get the truth from her unless he did something drastic. _**

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**_Sorry if I did confuse some…let me just do a little synopsis to chapter 26. _**

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**_Cam_****_ kissed a bus and thinks she's in a relationship with House after she suffered brain damage. For her benefit he went along with it and stayed at his place while she recouped. After going home to MI after his dad needed surgery, he saw his cousin, Debra, who he got along with very, very well and were somewhat close as kids. A few days later, Debra came to PPTH to see House because she was in trouble with her ex, Jerry and needed to hide. He'd shot her in the fleshy part of her stomach and only caused minimal damage, other than blood loss. Jerry knows where House lives and goes to find Debra to kill her and House, who'd been stalking House's apartment. He finally realizes that the panic he feels about Cameron could be he DOES care about her; starting to finally comes to terms with it. Calm down, I said 'starting'. lol _**

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**_So, there we have it. House now has to go check on Cameron _**

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**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

House picked up the phone by Debra's bed and called his home number. He only got the answering machine. He dialed Cameron's cell phone. He got the voice mail.

He cursed and slammed the phone down. As he walked out of her room he called Wilson on his cell phone and _ordered_ him to meet him down in the lobby then hung up. He then called Foreman and told him to immediately go and stay with Debra, never leaving her for any reason until he got back or, 'he'll get a tonsillectomy through his buttocks.'

As House got off the elevator he saw Wilson turning the corner putting on his jacket.

"What the hell is the emergency?" he asked as they walked out the entrance

House didn't answer as they continued to walk towards Wilson's car.

"Does this have anything to do with Debra 'Laurie'? You could have come up with a better last name than that. But, admittedly, the patient information was pretty funny," Wilson said as he unlocked the driver's door with the remote key then faced House.

"Seriously, who is she? She's not a hooker, is she?"

House scowled at him. "Damnit, she's my cousin. Wilson, shut up and get in the car!"

That was good enough for Wilson. He unlocked the passenger door, sat in the seat and turned on the ignition.

House opened the door and had just put his left leg in when an excruciating pain seared through his right thigh. The sharp pain started from his thigh, migrated south to his toes and as far north as his shoulder. He screamed in pain and lost his balance. He put all his weight on his left leg and turned to see what caused it because he had never had such severe pain before, except for right after surgery.

House saw a man, about 6'0, 250 lbs of pure muscle, no fat, and the eyes of satan himself, standing on the other side of the opened door with a pleasing smirk on his face.

"What the …" House started to say as he rubbed his leg but the next thing he knew he was shoved onto the passenger's seat and heard the back door open then felt the weight of the car shake as the stranger sat in the back.

Wilson stayed quiet the whole time, and there was a reason for it. It wasn't because he was scared. It was because the man was half a foot taller, not a big challenge, but twice his weight. The man could squash Wilson and feed him to the man's alligators. Okay, he was quiet because he was scared.

"Let's drive," the man said evily.

"'fraid not," House said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Wilson turned in the direction of House's apartment, hoping the man didn't have any particular location in mind and they'd be able to make it there.

"We're going to my …if you did _anything_ to Cameron I'll kill you, I swear," House warned, but not in either a very convincing or intimidating threat.

"SHUT UP and drive, buddy," the man ordered

After the pain subsided a bit, House turned to face the man. He checked him over up and down.

"Mr. Ex, I presume?"

"Presumably. Name's Jerry. And you're Greg, I presume."

"Okay, first of all, stop using the word 'presume.' You _ain't_ even using it rightly; she was right – you are a moron," House dared to say.

Jerry's eyes became narrow slits as he kept his gaze at House, while he never took his eyes off of Jerry's.

"We're going to my place and if you don't like it then tough sh…" House started.

House stopped talking because he had a revolver misshaping his tip of his nose.

"Fine. Guess I could add one more." Jerry said.

"Add one more what?" House just _had _to ask.

"One more killin'."

Wilson's tongue found its way down his throat at those words. "House, just shut the hell up, will you! You'll get us all killed!"

House turned and faced the front window. Thoughts ran through his mind as to what to do. Of all the Westerns he'd ever seen, he could think of _nothing _to get out of this jam. He only hoped he'd be able to lay some ground when he got to his apartment. Oh, and to check to make sure Cameron was still alive or not.

"Well, of course, Debra's death won't really count for me. Someone else is taking care of her. But I sure wish I could have done it myself. Well, good riddance to bad trash, my mama used to say.

"You were easy to follow this morning; followed 'ya when you left for work. I was gonna surprise ya when you came back home, but I decided against that at the last minute. Figured I would just take care of you and Debra at the same time at the hospital."

"How did you know she was even there? She was never at my apartment," House asked.

"Oh, I got sources at Princeton. Guess that ho thought she could show up there instead and I wouldn't find out. But her parents…so sweet. They gave me all the information I needed, which really wasn't much."

"Dude, you got it _all _wrong! Debra and I are _not _seeing each other!" House said, hoping that would appease the madman, but he knew it wouldn't.

"And why shouldn't I believe you?"

House thought a moment, reached into his back pocket and pulled out one thin wallet and a thicker one. He opened them to the picture ID in the front and showed them both to Jerry.

"Because we are _cousins!_ See, same last name!"

"No, no. Oh, wait, you two married?? That's it! Oh, I'm gonna enjoy the _hell _out of killing you!"

"We're here," Wilson said, practically whispering, as he parked across the street from House's apartment.

Wilson turned to look at House to see what he was going to do, and House could only watch as Jerry brought the butt of the gun down on Wilson's right temple.

"What the hell did you do that for?" House said as he tried to catch Wilson as he slumped across the tape holder in between the seats.

"I don't have the heart to kill him; he has _such _a baby face." He got out of the car and opened the passenger door.

"Come on, let's go across the street. 'm watching you so don't make any sudden moves. The gun is gonna be pressed against your back as a reminder, got it?"

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

Back at PPTH, Foreman was quietly seething over the fact he had to 'babysit' a patient. He had a date with Wendy and was supposed to meet her at 7:00. He took the last sip of water from the bottle and it went right through him: he had to use the bathroom.

Sure, House told him to stay and not leave Debra alone, but he couldn't have meant not even to pee. He would just take his chances, only because he didn't have an extra pair of pants to change in to and wasn't about to meet Wendy in pee-soaked pants.

Foreman left her room, telling Brenda, the afternoon nurse at the station outside, to keep an eye on her. He walked down the hall, turned the corner – the whole time thinking that House told him to stay, and he should really stay. He'd disobeyed House plenty of times, but if House told him to stay, he should have stayed.

He grabbed a clean bedpan from the nurse's closet, turned and walked back to Debra's room. He heard a hushed gurgling noise come from her room and rushed in to find Brenda standing by her bed.

"What happened?" he asked as he rushed to her bedside.

Debra's eyes were pleading to him to help her as her throat slowly closed up and she found it harder and harder to breath.

"I need a crash cart in here now!" Foreman ordered Brenda.

As Brenda walked out of the room, rather calmly and too slowly for any emergency, she slipped the syringe into her right pocket while she felt the wad of cash in her left.


	27. Chapter 27

**_Okay, I'm almost at the climax of the story!!! Get ready!!! Hehehe Steph _**

**_ Thanks for others for sticking with me and the reviews. _**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN **

House put the key in the keyhole and turned the knob. Hearing it click, he pushed in on it. He took a few steps in the room and would have punched Jerry in the stomach with his elbow if the gun wasn't starting to pain his back from being jammed between his shoulders.

"Cameron?!" House shouted as he looked around the living room.

He looked around the room in horrified expectation of seeing her dead, lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, her eyes staring at him as if saying, _'Where were you, House? Why didn't you come to help me? It's your fault I'm dead.' _He pushed the picture out of his head and waited to hear her voice.

There was none.

House rushed to his bedroom as fast as a cripple could.

"Cameron?!! Answer me, damnit," he shouted in desperation.

He stood at the foot of his empty bed – the sheets and blankets were all twisted as if a person tossed and turned all night and the blankets ended up knotted around their body – bed and looked to the right, where the bathroom was. No Cameron. A picture of Cameron lying dead in the tub crossed his mind and his body shook. He then looked to the left, at the wall. And on the floor he saw…a foot, with a leg in a cast.

"Oh, shhhh, Cameron!"

House rushed to her and knelt down on his left leg. She was lying on the floor, leaning up against the wall. Her head was tilted to the right and she was quiet and motionless. He looked for blood but there was none. He pressed his finger on the vein in her neck and was relieved when he felt it jump against his skin in a steady beat.

"Oh, don't worry, she's fine. She _is_ a feisty little thing, though," Jerry said from the doorway, his arms crossed across his chest and holding the gun. It was pointed up in the air but of easy access for aiming and shooting.

"What the _hell_ did you do to her?!" House asked as he stood, turned and faced Jerry.

"We had a little _fight_'," he said.

Cameron moaned a little and tried to move her head, groaning louder as she did.

"Don't…don't move. Can you move?" he asked, not even realizing what he'd actually said.

She didn't respond but kept groaning under her breath, her mouth partly open. He grabbed her around her waist and tried to pull her up but she was dead weight, figuratively speaking.

"Cameron, I need you to help me get you up. Come on, you can do this. I've got you…just…"

He suddenly felt her push herself up a bit, although her eyes were still closed. She became a little lighter and he was able to put his weight on his left leg and lift her up. He only had a few steps to the bed where he wanted to put her. He had all his weight on his one leg and he was not looking forward to putting the extra weight on his injured leg.

She was limp in his arm as he held his breath and took the step. He grunted under his breath but didn't let go of her. A few steps later he was able to 'throw' her on the bed. He sat on the bed beside her, relieved he had made it without dropping her.

"Wow, I'm impressed. For a cripple you did good gettin' her on the bed," Jerry mocked.

House looked at him and only said, "_Well, _it's '…you did _well_…' Debra is right, you _are_ a moron."

He turned his attention back to Cameron by pushing the lamp shade up so that light would shine on her face. He leaned in, held his breath and lifted her eye lids to check her pupils, which were fine, much to his relief.

" Cam…Cameron…talk to me," House said, his voice choking. "Open your eyes, girl. Come _on_."

"Oh, isn't that touching," Jerry said meanly. "She's just knocked out; she'll be fine, for now. Besides, I don't want her. I wanted Debra, and you."

House's eyebrows curled under. "What do you mean, 'wanted Debra?'"

"Well, let's just say she got what she deserved."

House's blood boiled. He stood up, his face contorting in pain but he made it to Jerry, standing in front of him.

"If you did anything to Debra, you are _dead_."

"Your threats don't scare me, cripple," he said with an evil laugh.

House knew he had no chance against this madman. He could only hope Wilson would come around after kissing the butt of the gun.

He prayed to no one in particular. First the first time in his life, he prayed.

Actually, it was the second time. And it didn't work that time, either.

So why was he bothering now?

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

Back at PPTH, a nurse rushed in with the crash cart while Foreman lowered the bed and pulled her chin up and back to start intubating her.

"Get Brenda! She gave her some…"

"Stop…stop it…hold on a second," Debra said with a little laugh then grew serious.

"What the…" Foreman started to say.

"Get me up, doctor…" She looked at his name tag. "…Foreman. I'm fine."

"Debra, what did you do?"

"Where's Greg?"

"I saw him and Dr. Wilson leave about thirty minutes ago. Think they were going to check on Cameron at his place. Why?"

"Oh, shlt! We've got to go! We've got to go to Greg's! He's in trouble!!"

"Then we should call the cops," Foreman told her.

"No, no way. There's something I need to do."

"What? You're not in the best shape…"

"You got a car?" she asked as she sat up and walked to the closet where her suitcase was to get clean clothes.

Foreman nodded his head then said, "But you are not going anywhere,"

"Oh, shut up and help me! I'll explain on the way."

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

On the street, in a car half a block from 221 Baker Street, was Wilson. He was just coming around from the assault on his head and his head throbbed. He reached up and rubbed his temple then looked at his fingertips at the blood. There wasn't much but it was enough. His head spinned and he had trouble focusing his eyes.

He wasn't ready to go anywhere. He just had to wait a little bit of time before he leave the car and help House, _if_ he were still alive.


	28. Chapter 28

**_Thanks for the reviews. :o)_**

**CHAPTER TWENTY – EIGHT **

On the drive to House's apartment, Debra explained to Foreman about Jerry, her ex, and that he was crazy and wanted to kill her and House because he thought they were dating. She kept her arm over her stomach wound; it hurt but was manageable.

"That's why I came here, to warn Greg; well, to hide from Jerry, really. I didn't think he'd come so soon, though," Debra got quiet for a moment.

"What was all that back in the hospital – you not being able to breath?" Foreman asked curiously.

She told him Jerry _was _at the hospital but with everyone coming and going in my room, he didn't have a chance of getting in there. He paid the nurse, Brenda, $1,000 to give me anything that would kill me but warned he'd be watching.

"Brenda didn't know whether he was watching or not, but she angled her body a certain way to block the only view he would have had. She told me not to overreact, that she had $500 for me if I played along with her."

Foreman listened with intensity. She continued.

"She told me she'd pretend to give me the injection and to act like I couldn't breathe. She'd come back when she knew Jerry was _not_ anywhere on the floor. You just happened to come in; that whole show was for Jerry, _if _he was watching. But she did say she'd call the cops when she got back to the nurse's station. But I knew he wasn't there; that's not Jerry's style. He doesn't stick around waiting to get caught. I just _knew_ he was going to Greg's, if he's not there already."

"Wow, I have to give it to you, you're as conniving as House," Foreman said with a slight grin.

"It's a survival mechanism, I guess. Flight or fight. Us House's fight, Jerry runs."

"Do we know if Brenda actually did call the cops?" Foreman asked, turning the corner at the last intersection before House's place.

"Yeah. You weren't watching her but she nodded her head as we left, which meant she _did_ call the police," she told him.

Foreman parked about two buildings away and turned the engine off.

"Anything happening up there?" Debra asked.

"Not that I can see, but I think I see Wilson's car, so House is definitely here."

"Then so is Jerry."

"What do we do now?"

Debra was silent and didn't answer, but her mind was racing to think of a plan to get in there without making Jerry more out of control than she knew he was already in. Something suddenly crossed her mind.

"This is what we're gonna do…"

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"Back off, man!" Jerry ordered, of which House had no intention of doing.

Cameron was back in his bedroom, passed out on the bed and pretty much out of it; House figured Jerry slammed her against the wall. He hoped there was no injury to her already injured and fragile brain. The only comfort for him over her was that at least she was out of the way and out of danger.

Just then the land line phone rang.

"Don't answer it," Jerry insisted.

"Look, everyone knows I'm always home cuz I don't have a social life and all, and if I don't answer they'll think I OD'd or something and rush right over here," House started. "If I answer, no one will come out of suspicion."

Jerry thought for a moment – it made sense to him. He nodded his head to the phone, indicating it would be okay if he did answer it.

"Hello?" House said. He listened for a moment.

"Yeah, I saw the patient _this morning;_ she was fine and sleeping when I left her." He listened again then continued. "Look, now isn't a good time. I've got a hooker over here and if I'm interrupted I just _can't_ finish the job, if you know what I mean."

Jerry looked at him perplexed and gave him a facial expression that said, 'get off the phone!'

"Hey, gonna have to go in a sec; Lula is getting lonely. When are those x-rays gonna come back?" He listened carefully. "Okay, later."

House hung up the phone hoping he was convincing enough to fool Jerry.

"I've got to get some medicine out of the bathroom," House said then started to walk away.

"Stay in here!" Jerry shouted.

House continued to walk toward the hall. All of a sudden a bullet flew by House's head, about two feet away, and exploded into the wall. House froze, but not of fear; of the fact that he knew he was in big trouble.

_This guy is serious. Shlt. _

He slowly turned around and told Jerry, "Look, as you can see I've got a little limping problem, thus the cane," House sniggered then put out the cane. "I need medication for the pain. And if I don't get it, I get very, very angry! You won't like me when I'm angry. I turn green and everything," House said seriously.

"Fine, but I can see you from here. When you get back I need you to make a phone call."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

BACK IN FOREMAN'S CAR – THE SAME TIME HOUSE GOT THE PHONE CALL. For the conversation, Debra is in bold – House is in CAPS 

"HELLO?"

**"Greg, it's Debra…just listen…I'm with Eric outside…Dr Wilson is fine…Eric wants to know if Cameron is okay." **

"YEAH, I SAW THE PATIENT THIS MORNING; SHE WAS FINE AND SLEEPING WHEN I LEFT HER."

_ House could hear Debra telling Foreman Cameron was okay. _

**"Look, the cops are on the way now…" **

"LOOK, NOW ISN'T A GOOD TIME. I'VE GOT A HOOKER OVER HERE AND IF I'M INTERRUPTED I JUST CAN'T FINISH THE JOB, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN."

**"Eric's gonna knock on door and you _have _to let Jerry answer the door!" **

"HEY, HAVE TO GO; LULU IS GETTING LONELY. WHEN ARE THOSE X-RAYS GONNA COME BACK?"

_ House heard Debra ask Foreman when he was ready to go to the apartment. _

**"Five minutes." **

"OKAY, LATER."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

And the rescue plan was put into effect…..


	29. Chapter 29

**_Hope this is soon enuf!! lol Ok..that's it for tonight._**

**_I'm also kind of writing a juicy fic that I would rate an R...somewhat of MA (mature audiences only). It's basically about four of the staff get snowed in (based on this weekend's weather) and what they end up doing. You'll have to email me because it won't take the link. I'm only up to Chapter 3 and it's just the set-up...the action REALLY starts in Chapter 4. Let me know if you are interested. Steph_**

**CHAPTER TWENTY – NINE **

House walked into the bathroom and opened the cabinet over the sink, looking over the three prescription bottles. He read them over carefully: one was in the name of Martha Adkinson – Dilaudid; one was in Harry Potter's name – he sniggered at the name; his name really _was _Harry Potter! – which was morphine in pill form; and the last was …ah, who cared. House was only looking for the morphine.

He slowly reached into his left pant pocket (out of Jerry's view), took out his bottle of vicodin, set all ten or so of the morphine pills onto the edge of the sink, poured the vicodin into the morphine bottle (except two vicodin), and put the remaining pills of morphine into the vicodin bottle, including the two loose vicodin. He then replaced the morphine bottle with the vicodin in it in the cabinet.

"Hey! What's taking so long?!" Jerry snapped as he stood at the end of the hall facing the bathroom.

"Sorry," House said as he turned to look at him. "I'm a cripple, I do everything slowly…wait, I told you that already. Do you have short term memory loss? I think you should see a doctor for…"

"SHUT UP and get out here!" Jerry ordered.

House wasn't ready to leave; Foreman should be knocking on the door any minute. Well, as long House was away from the door, Jerry would still be able to answer it without injury to him. House walked out carrying the bottle of 'vicodin' and walked to his liquor tray.

"You want a shot of something?" House asked as he poured himself a Scotch. "Oh, guess I chose the wrong words, there, huh? I mean liquor." He turned, looked at Jerry, uncapped the bottle of 'vicodin', let the two real vicodin pop out onto his palm then downed them with the Scotch, never taking his eyes off of Jerry.

"No."

"Water, tea, milk…" House suggested.

House's plan was to hope his drinking diversion would kill time before Foreman showed up, although he had no clue what Foreman's plan _was. _

"I DON'T WANT NOTHING TO DRINK!" Jerry shouted.

House knew Jerry's patience was wearing thin but he didn't let that panic him – at least not yet. He took his drink to the chair against the wall by the piano, the farthest from the front door, and sat down.

"Don't get comfortable," Jerry told him.

House just frowned at him without responding.

"Make a phone call for me."

"To whom?"

"Your hospital. And I want it on speaker phone."

"Fine."

The two stared at each other without saying a word. Jerry said something about House getting the phone but he didn't make a quick effort out of it; he just simply took another sip of the Scotch and stared him down.

"Why?" House asked, again, a stalling effort.

"Find out if Debra is _really _dead," Jerry told him, he face becoming as evil as satan himself.

House flinched when he heard the words '…Debra…dead.' He wanted to kill the man with every fiber of his being, but he didn't dare; not if it meant losing Cameron in the process.

"Fine, bring me the phone," House finally consented.

House's heart skipped a beat when he heard the doorbell ring. Jerry looked at House and asked if he was expecting anyone; House answered no but that he'd better get the door anyway.

"No! It's a trick! Probably one of your 'lackeys' coming to the rescue. Nope, it ain't gonna work on me, no sir," Jerry said as he stepped away from the door. "Prob'ly means Debra ain't really dead, I suppose? Is that her…at the door?"

"No, you're getting paranoid. You won't know who it is until you answer it, right?" House said.

"No, you get it," Jerry told him.

The doorbell rang again.

"No, _you _get it," House answered.

This infuriated Jerry. He rushed over to House, shoved the gun into his right temple and said, "I said YOU get the door!"

"Fine! Fine. Calm down," House said as he stood and approached the door, Jerry walking behind him with the gun pointed to the back of his head.

He didn't know what Foreman was going to do and he didn't want to find out. But right now, at that moment, House really didn't _have_ a choice.

Jerry pressed the gun deeper into House's flesh and twisted, making him squirm in mild pain. Jerry stood behind the door while House reached for the doorknob to open it.

"Who is i…" he called out right before he opened the door…

Suddenly, a crowbar flew in the air toward House and it landed below his right rib cage. He bent over in pain but didn't collapse to the foyer.

"What the fff…" House started to say but the pain shot through his body and made him speechless.

Suddenly, House felt someone pull him by the back of his shirt and pull him inside the apartment then slammed the door; he did catch Foreman standing there in horror at what he just did.

_Great! First I didn't listen to House by leaving Debra's room and she almost dies. NOW I've probably just fractured a couple of my boss's ribs. Shit!! _


	30. Chapter 30

**CHAPTER THIRTY **

"Hell, I hit House!" Foreman said as he went back outside where Debra was waiting for him.

"You did _what_? Where?"

"Ribs…stomach…Where are the damned cops?" Foreman asked desperately.

"This has gone too far!" Debra exclaimed.

She started to walk through the building entrance door when Foreman tried to stop her.

"Eric, this is all _my _fault. I never meant for this to happen; I never _dreamed _it would happen. He wants me, and I'm the only one he's going to get."

She walked through the door and approached the door marked 'B'.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

House barely managed to make it to the couch, despite the fact he had to bend over from the intense pain then sat down, hard, the whole time moaning.

"What do you think you are trying to pull? Do you think I'm an idiot?" Jerry asked irately.

"Yep," House answered, rocking a bit hoping the pain would subside but knowing it wouldn't.

He managed to reach in his pocket and only then remembered he only put two vicodin pills and already took them; the rest were morphine. Ah, better for him, but he didn't want to be so numb he wouldn't be able to react if something happened. Besides, he figured if he were in severe pain, it would at least keep him somewhat conscious. He knew he wasn't in any type of shape to attack him, which made him feel very helpless.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door which distracted Jerry from House.

"Who is it?! Go away!" Jerry screamed at the door.

"Jerry, it's Debra. Please let me in!" she asked, her voice gentle and calm, yet her heart was pounding in her chest and her hands were shaking from nerves.

Jerry was dumbstruck. He didn't really know what to do.

"Guess you don't need me to call the hospital to find out if she's dead, huh?" House asked mockingly under his breath.

"Shut up! I heard that!" Jerry barked.

"Please, don't hurt anyone else. Let me in and we'll talk, okay?" Debra begged.

Jerry approached the door, unlatched the security chain and slowly opened the door.

"Who…who else is with you?"

"No one, Jerry, no one. It's just me."

"Where's that other guy?"

"Outside. Please, Jerry, I want to talk this out with you."

He opened the door but only wide enough for her to allow her through. She eased by him slowly before he slammed the door and set the latch again.

"Greg…Gr…" Debra started to say but Jerry interrupted her.

"Don't talk to him! Sit over there!" Jerry ordered, waving the gun to her face.

She did as she was told but kept her eyes on House to see if he was seriously hurt. She saw him wink at her and knew he was fine, or hurt not too badly. She then turned her attention to Jerry.

"Jerry, please, you want _me, _not him. Please, let him go?" she pleaded, which fell on deaf ears.

"NO! How could you cheat on me?!"

"Jerry, he's my _cousin_! Why don't you believe me?! I've never lied to you before."

Jerry shook his head as if he were confused.

"I just want you to come home, baby. I want things the way they used to be," he said gently, his voice sounding slightly hopeful.

"You know I can't do that," she answered; the peace she wanted had suddenly gone out the window.

Jerry lost all control. He walked over to the chair Debra was sitting in and flipped over the small end table, sending a crystal tray and lamp crashing to the floor.

"Then you're dead!" he screamed then looked puzzled. "And why not?"

She looked at him confused, but only to gain some time said, "Why not what?"

"Why don't you want to come home with me? See, it's him, isn't it? I should have killed him in the car…" he ranted, pointing the gun at House's face.

"Because you'll hurt me again…" she answered before she was interrupted.

"How…House?" came a muted voice from the bedroom.

House turned and looked in the bedroom - he saw Cameron sitting up and looking at him baffled.

"What was that noise?" she asked.

Firstly, House was alarmed because now that she was in the picture she was in just as much danger as he and Debra.

"Nothing, Cameron. Go back to sleep," House told her.

Secondly, House was puzzled by the fact she called him 'House.' Of course, that was his name, but that also meant something else.

"What…wait…" she mumbled then it grew quiet in the bedroom.

Several minutes passed silently in the living room. House and Debra were afraid to say anything to him. A moment later the toilet flushed and she appeared in the hallway then stood still.

House turned to face Cameron. He thought if he didn't make a big deal out of Cameron being in the picture now, maybe she'd be safe; he really didn't have any other choice.

"How about that drink now?" House asked again, hoping he'd accept this time and he could slip the morphine pills in the drink to knock him out.

"No, and I'm getting tired of this. Either you come home with me or this louse is dead!" Jerry threatened, looking at Debra but pointing the gun at House.

A noise from the street interrupted him. It was a megaphone with a voice asking, or telling, Jerry to come out or let the hostages go – that they'd talk. House looked outside his window and did notice a huge truck, armored, he thought.

Jerry shook his head from side to side and lowered the gun just a little, as if struggling with what to do next. Debra caught House's expression in the corner of her eye but ignored him. She stood up and approached him.

"House…what's…oh," Cameron said when she'd walked into the room, using the walker, and saw House sitting on the couch and a woman she didn't know walking toward a man she didn't know. "Uh, what's going on, House?"

"Shut up!" Jerry said, taking the gun's aim from House to Cameron, the whole time keeping his eyes on Debra.

When House saw the gun aimed at Cameron, his blood boiled. The anger was building up inside him and luckily the pain had subsided a bit, but he wasn't sure how long it would, but he had to try..._something._

"Jerry, listen, let Cameron go, okay? You can see she's already hurt," Debra said when she reached about five feet from him.

"No, she means nothing, but I don't want her. I want _him _dead pointing the gun back at House , and I want _you_ home." Jerry told her angrily.

Jerry's whole demeanor had changed, making him very unpredictable to House now. If he tried anything he could risk Cameron's life, which he wasn't about to do. He found it strange he was more worried about Cameron than he was about his own cousin.

House coughed, and he wiped his mouth. Taking his hand away he noticed a portion of his forefinger was red with blood, which meant he had begun to bleed internally. Neither Jerry nor Debra noticed, but Cameron did. She took a few steps towards him, approaching the back, until Jerry pointed the gun at Cameron again.

"Jerry, hun, look…put the gun down and we'll talk…NO!" she screamed when she saw the gun change aim.

"Please, let's talk, ok? Leave her out of it," she insisted. "She only wants to check on Greg. I'll go home with you, ok? That's what you want, isn't it?" she asked sweet and sincere, all the while faking _very_ well.

Debra was still five feet from Jerry but easing herself closer to him. She didn't see Cameron approach the couch at first, but when she did she realized Cameron had just tripped on the edge of the carpet and was about to fall; she knew House wouldn't have been able to move quickly enough to catch her.

Debra rushed to Cameron to catch her when she did fall; she never really thought about it, it just happened. Everything happened so fast it was difficult for anyone to keep their eyes on one particular person. Debra grabbed Cameron's elbow and upper arm and pulled her up, keeping Cameron's weight on her.

As they both caught their balance, Debra turned around to look at Jerry when she saw the gun aimed at them and screamed. But it was too late.


	31. Chapter 31

**Ok, guys! You all wanted a House/Cam so here it is!!! It is just so sugary sweet that I'll advise you all to grab a Kleenex for the tears. **

**THIS IS CONTINUED IN ANOTHER DOOR CLOSES!!!!!**

**THIRTY – ONE **

**House had just stood up and was going to get to Cameron and Debra when he heard the gunshot. He had been looking at Jerry; not the girls. When he turned to look everything happened in slow motion, making it hard for him to actually believe what he was seeing. Debra twisted her body to stand in front of Cameron to shield her from Jerry. She put her hands out in front of her then her body jerked back, crashing into Cameron and sending them both to the floor.**

**House couldn't move; he was paralyzed with dreaded fear. It was a difficult choice he had to make: rush to the girls or attack Jerry?**

**His quandary was answered when he heard glass shattering, though nothing caught his attention in the room as to what it was. He watched Jerry fall forward, grabbed his chest, and landed flat on his face, motionless. When he landed his gun went flying out of his hand and slid several feet from him.**

**Not really sure what happened, House rushed around the couch to the gun, carefully keeping his distance from Jerry in case he wasn't dead. With his left foot he pushed the gun farther away from Jerry and hurried to Debra and Cameron.**

**" Cam…Debra..are you two…" House started to say but what he saw shocked him.**

**Cameron had enough time to roll Debra off of her by the time House got to them. He could tell Cameron wasn't hurt but Debra was lying beside her on her side and barely conscious. He knelt down beside them but grimaced and cried out in pain from his ribs stabbing him.**

**"Cameron, are you alright?" he asked as he reached out to her, gently touching her forearm to reassure himself that she was actually fine.**

**Cameron looked up at House, her boss, and asked, "What the _heII_ happened?? I wake up in your bed and…"**

**Cameron was talking, which in House's mind told him she was okay, so he then turned his attention to Debra. He carefully rolled her over on her back and gasped when he saw her white cotton t-shirt had a hole right above her heart, the edges covered with blood which was spreading throughout the shirt.**

**"Debra…Deb…can you hear me?" he said as he placed his hand over the wound with his left hand and shook her at the shoulder with the right.**

**"…arrg…are you…okay, Grg…" she asked as she looked up at him, but having trouble focusing her eyes.**

**House nodded his head but he couldn't hide the fear he felt for her under her condition. She forced a smile on her lips but then coughed. Her voice had sounded gurgled, as if there was blood in the back of her throat. House knew that wasn't good; there was too much bleeding around her heart.**

**"Are you okay?" he asked.**

**She nodded her head then her face contorted in pain, finally looking at him and smiling again. But that was Debra: always smiling regardless of the situation, whether easily handled or life or death.**

**"…Dunno…yuur the doc," Debra said then tried to laugh, which only resulted blood coming out from the back of her throat.**

**"Debra…calm down…where's the damned ambulance?!" House said angrily.**

**House looked around expecting the door to burst open any second but it didn't. He looked back at Cameron, and the expression on her face caught him off guard. Of all the times he could read her so clearly, and was right, this was one time that he couldn't. And it scared the shLt out of him.**

**"Grg…" Debra coughed again to clear her throat. "Do yosef a favor, huuuu?" she slurred.**

**House tried to hold back tears because he knew she wouldn't last much longer but a single tear fell from his eye anyway. Debra told him the favor but he hadn't heard a word of it. He tried to focus on her but she was becoming blurry; he suddenly felt extremely dizzy and nauseous and the pain at his side shot through his entire body. His head grew heavy and he couldn't keep it any longer and collapsed beside Debra.**

**HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD**

**There were voices in the corner of the room that he couldn't quite grasp what they were saying. One had a deep voice while the other was higher pitched. His throat hurt, his head hurt, his side hurt and his leg hurt - he was an all-around hurting man.**

**He opened his eyes and saw Chase standing by Cameron, who was in a wheelchair with her right leg propped up, at the other end of the room. They hadn't noticed he'd woken up. He tried to say something but his throat felt parched and scratchy. It didn't feel to him that he had a breathing tube but he slowly brought his hand up to his neck and felt just underneath his Adam's apple. No tube.**

**He took as deep of a breath as he could and groaned as loud as he could. That got Chase and Cameron's attention. Cameron smiled at him as Chase pushed her to House's bedside.**

**"House…Greg..whatever…how are you feeling?" she asked nervously.**

**"Deb…" he started to say, his voice gravely.**

**Cameron interrupted him and asked Chase to get him a glass of water to clear his throat. When Chase handed it to him he nodded his head and took a small sip, then another, until it was half full. He threw his head back down on the pillow and looked at Cameron.**

**"Where's Debra?"**

**Neither one of them spoke. They didn't know what to say to him. They didn't think he could take it. Not now.**

**"House, you look well," Chase said.**

**"Cut the crap, will ya? _Where's_ Debra?"**

**Cameron looked up at Chase and he nodded his head sympathetically to tell her it was okay to tell him.**

**"Damn, she didn't make it, did she?" House asked sadly and closed his eyes.**

**"No, House. She's in surgery," Cameron told him.**

**"Will…will she…" he asked, his eyes opened, sounding briefly hopeful that she would make it. "Can you go see how she's…"**

**"No, House, we won't. You need rest. The doctors are doing their best," Cameron told him.**

**"Cameron, I'll go. It's not a problem," Chase offered.**

**House nodded his head in gratitude and closed his eyes again. He heard the wheels from the chair Cameron was in then felt the bed shake. He turned his head and looked at her, a grin on his face that said, 'We made it, huh?'**

**"House?" Cameron asked.**

**He swallowed hard and answered.**

**"Cuddy told me about what happened to me and that I stayed with you and, um, you know," she said, a little embarrassed.**

**"Yeah, I know. You wanted to sleep with me," he teased with a sly grin.**

**"No! That I'd remember," she said with a little laugh. She leaned forward in the chair and lowered the bed railing so she could rest her folded arms across it to be closer to him.**

**"What? You'd remember sleeping with me or you'd remember _begging _to sleep with me? Oh, wait, you've already done that second one," he teased.**

**"NO! About believing we were married. But I'd _remember_ being with you, and we weren't," she answered seriously.**

**"Oh, really? Care to make a wager on that?"**

**"Um, sure. What?"**

**"You lose and we sleep together," House said.**

**"House! That's doesn't even make any sense."**

**"It does to me. But, seriously, you have to do something for me," he asked.**

**She asked what.**

**"Call me Greg…"**

**"No, no. I can't do that…you're my boss," she protested.**

**"Would you LET me finish?!"**

**"Fine, fine. Go ahead."**

**He yawned, closed his eyes and said, "…when we go out on our first _real_ date," then took another deep yawn.**

**Cameron was shocked. She just _knew_ he was messing with her. Besides, with all the drugs in his system he'd never remember saying that.**

**"Okay, well, yeah, we'll see," she said as she put her hand over his.**

**He grabbed her fingers and held them tightly.**

**"An…yes, Il remember asknn you oww," he said, and was soon asleep.**

**Again, Cameron was shocked – he actually read her mind.**

**_Ok, Allie, get a grip on yourself, girl. There's a lot ahead for the_ both _of us and you can't get yourself all built up over something that might not even be something. _**

**Cameron carefully pulled her fingers free of his, and the warmth that was generated between them was gone, and she hated it. She watched him sleep and didn't _want_ to leave. She put her hand back on his, squeezed his fingers, put her head on the bed beside his arm and closed her eyes.**

**"Ok, guys," Chase said as he came back from checking on Debra for House.**

**Before he could get any more information out he saw the two together, Cameron asleep next to a sleeping House. He actually smiled at the scene. He couldn't be mad at House, or Cameron. Not now. Not after all he'd done for her – saving her life and all. He'd just have to live with it, but it wouldn't be easy.**

**"Don't hurt her, House." Chase left the room with the two sleeping peacefully.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**THIS CONTINUES IN ANOTHER DOOR CLOSES...don't know if I'll continue from there.**


End file.
